A Very Tully Christmas 9

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 Nine

Samuel Oliver was ashamed of himself as he stood exposed and vulnerable in the middle of his grandmother’s living room. You’d think that he would have lost at least some of his modesty after spending so much time running around in his birthday suit, but that was not the case. Not at all. If anything, the experiences he suffered the past several months had given him new reasons to fear being naked. At a time in life when most boys are bold and carefree and even a bit reckless, young Samuel had grown timid and meek, especially in the presence of the so-called fairer sex; and especially in front of matronly, kindly older women. Thanks to the cruel practices of the deceptively sweet and harmless Irma Tully, the mere thought of losing his clothes was enough to make his heart race, his knees go weak … and his more sensitive parts tingle with fear.

Take this particular Christmas morning, for example. Samuel felt horrible, dressed as what he could only imagine to be the most ridiculous costume in the world. Wearing little more than a girl’s baby doll nightgown and a pair of childish fairy wings, the blushing twelve year old was bare-bottomed and blushing all over. The skimpy gown tied together – just barely – at chest level with a single, fragile bow and parted wide down the front, leaving the beleagured boy’s bare belly and privates completely exposed to view. Not that it mattered, as his naked body, to include his plump breasts and cherry-like nipples, could easily be seen through the thin chiffon material. The frilly hem barely reached his hips, accentuating his chubby, naked bottom and long adolescent legs.

Annoyed and frustrated, Samuel hated above all else the gigantic fairy wings attached to his back. They added an absurd element of childishness to his appearance and made moving around extremely difficult. Whimsically decorated with sparkling glitter and sequins, the butterfly shaped panels consisted of white translucent nylon stretched out over a wire frame; secured just out of reach with knotted satin straps, the cartoonish contraption towered above the child’s head and the wingspan was as wide as his arms could reach. The bewildered boy bristled constantly as the bottom edge of his wings kept tickling his bare bum, but he didn't dare complain. Not out loud, at least. That would have only caused him more grief.

Topping off Samuel's feminine costume was a bejeweled tiara resting primly on his curly blond head; in the glow of the gaily decorated Christmas tree, the plastic and rhinestone toy glittered and sparkled like a piece of antique jewelry. It was the perfect accessory, framing our hero's tearful face in such a way as to give him a girlish, angelic appearance. Adorned in his outlandishly effeminate regalia, the shamed child could have stepped from the pages of a fairy tale book.

“I hate this,” he whispered to himself. “I wish I could take off all this stupid stuff and go hide for the rest of Christmas!”

“What was that?” Mrs. Tully asked in a sugary sweet voice. “Be patient, baby doll. I’ll be just a minute.”

Samuel cringed as he watched the enormous, matronly woman dig around in the hall closet. She made quite a sight in her bright red and white “Mrs. Santa Claus” dress, her immense bottom up in the air. The half-naked youngster blinked. Despite his twelve years of age, he felt so small in her presence, more like a little child than nearly a teenager. He watched, mesmerized by the cartoonish sight of her huge body jiggle and shake as she searched for whatever it was she was looking for; he shivered as he thought about how many times he’d seen that gigantic, fleshy butt naked in the bathroom, how many times he’d rubbed it dry with a towel and applied lilac scented power to it with his bare hands. The mental image disturbed both his dignity and his curiosity; he clenched his eyes shut as he felt a dreadful tingle light up between his legs.

“We are going to have so much fun today! I cannot wait to get started,” the fat woman cooed. “Now, where did I put that silly old camera bag …?”

Illuminated by the lights of the tree and the warm flames from the fireplace, Samuel struck a surreal, almost ethereal figure in his fairy costume. The enormous wings made him look much smaller than he really was. A stranger seeing him would have never guessed he was a seventh grader. With his curly blond tresses and cherubic countenance, he might have been mistaken for an elementary school girl playing dress up in her mother’s lingerie had it not been for the pink wormlike appendage peeking out between his chubby thighs.

The anxious lad squirmed where he stood. He felt sick with embarrassment. Running around with his bare bottom hanging out was not what he expected to do for Christmas this year.

“I’m not little kid,” he muttered. “I’m in junior high school. This happened last Halloween and now it’s happening again! And on Christmas! Gah!!!"

Needless to say, the befuddled schoolboy was shocked a few moments earlier when Mrs. Tully first suggested the idea of taking pictures of him in his fairy costume. He put up a fuss, but as always, that did absolutely no good at all; once the bullying woman set her mind on something, there was no stopping her.

“I don’t want to hear any more,” he was warned. “Another word and someone is going to get the backside of my hairbrush on his fat little backside!”

Helpless to avoid the inevitable, Samuel watched in a daze as his babysitter finally pulled a leather bag from the closet and produced not just one, but two cameras. The smaller one took regular film like the one his mother owned and the other, larger camera made instant pictures like his dad’s.

“See, with the little one Nana can take some nice pictures that we can use to make Christmas cards,” his captor explained. She unfolded the larger instant camera and showed it to the wary child, her eyes twinkling as she spoke. “But with this big one we can make some fun fun fun pictures that we can enjoy right now! See, we just load the film and push the button and out comes a fun fun fun picture! Isn’t that exciting? Hmm? Hmmm?”

FLASH!!!

Samuel was blinded for an instant. Fighting spots before his eyes, it took him a moment to realize what had happened. The next thing he knew his grandmother was waving a freshly developed photograph before his wide, panic stricken eyes!

“Nanaaaa ... noooooo ....”

It was a silly picture, a close up of the youngster staring blankly and innocently at the camera, his wide eyes slightly crossed and his mouth open in a perfect “O.” Adding to the indignity of the situation, the sparkling tiara atop his curly head and the chiffon sleeves of his gown were prominently evident. He winced to see the glittering wings framing his head in the background.

“Ew! Nana, no! That's terrible! You can’t show that to people! I ... I look like ... like ... a stupid little sissy!”

“Oh, don't be so modest, baby doll,” the plump woman purred. “You’re not a stupid little sissy. You’re a PRETTY little sissy. Um-hmmm … see here? I think this looks just like you!”

“Nanaaaaaa …!!!”

The idea of the instant camera scared Samuel the most, especially in his current state. At first he thought – well, he hoped – his babysitter was just kidding around, thinking that she would never really photograph him with no clothes on. But seeing how she could take a photo and develop it without taking the film to the drug store, that really frightened him.

I really don't want to see pictures of myself liked this, the worried child lamented. And I sure as heck don't want other people seeing them, either!

Something suddenly grabbed him by the ear and the next thing he knew, Samuel was pulled from his thoughts to once again face the lens. An enthusiastic Mrs. Tully began snapping away like there was no tomorrow.

“Uh-uh, don’t you give me that ugly old pouty face,” the delightful woman playfully scolded. “I want to see nothing but smiles. Come on, baby doll … be a good little boy. You don’t want another warning spanking do you? Yes, that’s it, smile for Nana. Very pretty … smile for the cameraaaaa!”

The flustered lad felt his stomach ache as he forced his face into a weak smile. For the next several minutes he reluctantly posed for his babysitter, quietly and submissively as she took picture after picture of him in his Christmas fairy costume. They did some beside the artfully decorated tree, some in front of it and still others with his sitting under it. His grandmother handed him a variety of props with which to pose, from gaily wrapped gifts to sprigs of mistletoe. He was encouraged to make all sorts of silly faces, which only added to his misery. Bare bottomed, with his new wings and that goofy gown and tiara, he looked and felt like the world’s biggest priss! And yet there he was, posing for picture after picture for that horrible, awful mean Old Lady Tully!

This is the most stupidest way to spend Christmas morning in the world, he thought. Gah! I wish Christmas had never come!

“Soooo, what do you think, princess?” cooed the evil babysitter as she presented some of the instant photos for him to see. She held them fanned out like a hand of playing cards. “Aren’t you the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life?”

Samuel was horrified by what he saw. He knew it was him in those photos – it was his face all right and he had to acknowledge all of the horrible things he hated about his naked body. But in the photographs he seemed so … well, so different from how he imagined himself. The child looking back at him was extremely young, almost babyish, in the chiffon baby doll gown and the shiny bejeweled tiara in his curly blond hair added to the juvenile nature of his costume; instead of looking tough and boyish, the impish face had a shy, demure smile, as if he – or she – was quite happy in their predicament. There wasn’t a single frown or pout to be seen. If Samuel hadn’t known who it was, he would have thought he was looking at pictures of a little girl much younger than his twelve years.

This is awful, he thought. I’m … I’m such a fag! And I look so stupid! I don’t look anything like I want to look. I don’t look like a boy at all. I look way too much like a stupid baby or a stupid girl … only I’m not a baby or a girl. I’m a boy!

Gah! I hate this! I hate it I hate it I HATE IT!!!

“Please, Nana, you’re not going to show those to anybody, are you?” the worried youngster croaked. His mouth was dry and he had trouble breathing, he was so upset. “P-p-please … you can’t. Please s-s- … s-say y-you're n-n-not.”

“Of course I am, princess,” the smiling woman cheerfully replied. She looked down her nose at him in a way that made him feel oh, so very small – if that were indeed possible. “Your mother will want to see how you spent Christmas, and Mrs. Haggard, of course, will want to see them. We’ve simply GOT to share them. That’s the purpose of taking pictures, isn’t it? And why not? You’re so sweet and adorable, you should be proud of how you look.”

Mrs. Tully’s face suddenly took on a smarmy, mocking expression. “Why, what’s the problem, princess? You don’t look so happy. What’s the matter, don’t you love your pretty wings?”

“Um, not really, Nana,” Samuel complained in a soft voice. “They look dumb! And I feel dumb wearing them.”

“Well, princess, you can feel dumb all you want, but seeing you in your pretty fairy costume makes your Nana very happy.”

The bosomy babysitter did a little happy dance as she sorted through the pictures, causing her enormous breasts to wobble about in a fascinating manner. Samuel tried not to notice, but he couldn’t help staring. Mrs. Tully gave him a sly smile and did the dance again; the youngster was absolutely mesmerized. She let him look for another moment or so before interrupting his reverie.

“Lookie here, baby doll!” she exclaimed, holding up a picture that showed him holding a twig of mistletoe over his own head and pretended to blow a kiss at the camera. “That is sooooo adorable! I hope I got this on the other camera! You silly thing! You’re such a little tease when you get in front of the camera. We could use this for our Christmas card for next year. What do you think?”

The dazed boy stared at the picture. He remembered being handed the mistletoe but nothing afterward. He was shocked to see the almost playful expression on his face. To anyone else looking at the picture they’d think he actually enjoyed playing dress up in his fairy princess costume!

Why did I do that, he wondered. What the heck was I thinking when I did that??? It looks like I actually enjoy acting like a stupid sissy. I don’t really look that stupid … do I?

The excited baby sitter snatched the photo away and showed him yet another.

“Oh, sweetheart, look at this one! It really shows off your assets! You’re soooo pretty!”

Samuel crinkled his nose. This next photo showed him reaching up on his tiptoes and pretending to put an ornament on the tree. Taken from the rear, it gave a perfect view his pudgy bare butt and chubby legs, and those dumb old fairy wings, of course! This was the first time he’d ever seen an actual picture of his backside and it was worse than he could have imagined. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he had what looked to be the happiest, silliest smile on his face, suggesting that he was having the time of his life!

“That’s really embarrassing,” he mumbled. “I look so stupid!”

“Well, I think you look sweet. Maybe that one should be on our Christmas card.” His grandmother’s laugh sounded perfectly evil. “What a pretty smile. And just look at those long legs and that adorable bottom! Really, baby doll, as much as you fuss and complain, you can’t tell me you weren’t having fun showing off that cute little bumpity bum bum!”

Samuel was mortified at the thought of a Christmas card with this picture of him on it. He hated how he looked with no clothes on and he especially hated his butt! With that one image alone his life could be ruined! He imagined for a moment what his friends from school would think if they got their hands of this picture and he felt like throwing up; that would be the end of life as he knew it. He’s have to go into hiding, change his name. He might even have to move to another country!

And to think that Old Lady Tully had a stack of these pictures, a dozen or more, each just as absurd and incriminating as the first. And that wasn’t even counting the ones on the undeveloped film. Samuel’s heart raced as he tried to think of a way to make all of this go away.

When all else fails, do the obvious ….

“Please, Nana, you can’t show those to anybody!” the desperate lad suddenly cried out. “Please don’t! PUUUUHLLLLLEEEEEASSSSE!!! I’m begging you … you can’t let people see me like this! Not like this! Pleeeeeasssse, Nanaaaaa … please don’t show anybody! PUUUUUHLLLLLEEEEEEEEASSSSSE!!!!”

“Oh, Samuel, stop it! You’re making such fuss over nothing!” Mrs. Tully waved the photo in front of her adopted grandson’s tearful face, her raised eyebrow daring him to take it from her. “If you don’t stop being such a crybaby I might have to send some of these to your mean old daddy. What do you think he’d do if he saw his big strong boy smiling and blowing kisses in your pretty fairy princess costume? You might have a real reason to cry then, don’t you think?”

The humbled boy’s legs went weak as limp noodles. He could only imagine what his father would think if he saw him like this, posing bare bottomed and wearing fairy wings in front of a Christmas tree. That would not be good. Things between them were bad enough as it was. Even if he could explain that none of this was his fault, the chances of his father believing him were next to none.

“Please, Nana … don’t. Please don’t show these to my dad. Please?” The panicked child dropped to his knees and clasped his hands together in a classic begging pose, striking an unintentionally charming image in his fairy costume. “I’ll do anything you say! Please, don’t send those pictures to my dad! I’ll do anything, I promise! Just don’t send those to my dad!”

The evil Mrs. Tully was quite delighted with Samuel’s desperate response, of course. She enjoyed herself immensely, taking in the site of the panicked youngster pleading at her feet with great relish.

“Please, Nana!” Samuel tugged on his babysitter’s dress, realizing full well how ridiculous he much have looked. He didn’t care what he looked like at that moment; he was determined to sway her from making a disastrous mistake.

“I’ll do anything you say, Nana! I promise! Anything!”

The bosomy bully hummed a happy Christmas tune as she cheerfully flipped through the stack of photos. Despite her apparent years, her voice sounded like that of a little girl’s as she cooed in a teasing, almost childish manner. “Sooooo … you’ll do … anything, hmmm? Are you sure about that, baaaaa-beeeeee doooolllllllll? Anyyyyyy-thiiiiiiiiiinnnnnng? Are you suuuuuuuurrrrrrrre?”

The tearful boy blinked. He thought for a moment, looked down at himself and sighed.

What the heck, he thought. What else can she do to me? I’m practically her prisoner in this stupid house. I have to do everything else she says anyway, so why not? As long as she doesn’t tell my dad or anybody else … yeah, sure. Why not?

Samuel cleared his throat and nodded. “Please Nana, yes, I’ll do anything. Just don’t let my dad see me in those pictures. Please?”

“Anything, hmm? Is that a promise? Hmm? Hmmm???”

He thought for a second, then nodded. “Yes Nana. I promise. Anything.”

Mrs.Tully thought for a moment. A long, tedious moment, long enough for the kneeling child to get a cramp in his foot.

“Okay then, since you asked nicely.” The manipulative matron smiled a warm but not quite sincere smile. “Well, how about we start with you not being such a party pooper? How about you start acting like Nana’s nice little boy and stop being so fussy? Can you do that? Hmm? Hmmm?”

The crossdressed lad pursed his lips and nodded. “I guess so,” he replied, wiping his eyes.

“Good. Now stand up. That’s my pretty boy.” Mrs. Tully smiled and handed the tearful lad a tissue. “No more tears. You can’t do this right if you’re upset. You have to be nice and sweet and stop arguing whenever Nana asks you to do something.”

Samuel blew his nose and nodded. “Okay, I can do that.”

“Also, you can’t just do what Nana says and be all miserable about it. You have to show some appreciation, show some respect. No more sulking about and being ugly. I want to see some smiles and hear some laughter. I mean, it’s Christmas, for pity’s sake! You’re supposed to be happy. Act like it! Be Nana’s happy little Christmas fairy princess. Can you do that? Hmm? Hmmm???”

The crossdressed boy nodded again. “I can do that, too,” he said brightly. “Just watch me!”

“All right, I will.” The conniving babysitter tilted her head in a flirtatious, teenaged girl manner. “So tell me, my happy little princess, what do you think of your pretty wings? Aren’t they just perfect? Aren’t they clever?”

Samuel shrugged. “Well, um … I guess ….”

“Come on, princess, you said you’d do anything. Now don’t be shy. Be happy. Tell Nana how much you just looooove love love your pretty wings.” Mrs. Tully gave him a teasing wave with the incriminating photograph. “Aren’t they a lot more fun than showing these to your father? Come one, tell Nana all about it.”

The confused boy bit his lip. “Okay, I see what you want me to do, but ….”

“There are no buts about it, baby doll. It’s not about what I want you to do. It’s about what YOU want to do.” The mischievous matron smiled a most sinister smile. “You can either be Nana’s happy little princess or you can be a miserable brat. You can want to be happy … or you can want me to warm your fat little butt up again with another spanking. Then you can help me mail some pretty pictures to your daddy. What do you think of that? Hmm? Hmmm?”

The anxious lad bit his lip. He ran his hand over his bare bottom, remembering lingering pain from his last beating. He so wanted to tell his babysitter what he really thought. He wanted to tell her to go to hell. He was bursting to shout, to cry and scream so loud that his mother would hear him all the way down in Florida. He wanted to call out to his father, to get him to come and rescue him from this terrible, awful situation, this lavender and lilac smelling old lady hell on earth.

That’s what he wanted to do. But it’s not what he did. Looking up at the deceptively loving face that beamed down at him, he decided to just give up and go with the flow. He didn’t want his father finding out about any of this and he certainly didn’t want another paddling. He clenched his butt muscles together and winced at the residual ache. He then took a deep breath and he forced his mouth to take on a weak but definite smile.

“This is your last chance, baby doll,” the smiling bully of a babysitter said with a sing-song voice. “You really do like your new wings, don’t you? Tell Nana all about it … or you get another butt warming and daddy finds out about your silly sissy secrets ….”

Samuel looked down at the frilly nightie that adorned his body and gritted his teeth. He hated being rushed into a decision, almost as much as he hated being bullied into doing things against his will. But now was not the time to debate either of those matters. It was now or never ….

Okay, I can do this, he told himself. I don’t have to like it … but I can do this ….

“I’m sorry to be a party pooper,” he squeaked awkwardly. “I don’t want to be … miserable. I want to be happy. Happy for … for Christmas.”

The gleeful woman smiled. “That’s better. Now, tell Nana what you think about your pretty new wings. Can you do that? Of course you can. All you have to do is tell Nana the truth. You love your new wings, don’t you, princess? Hmm? Hmmm?”

“My … my new … wings are … very nice, Nana,” the nervous lad croaked out in a hoarse voice. He wiggled about a bit, doing his best to think of something pleasant to say. He twisted his face into an even larger and faker smile. “They … they feel funny, but they … they are kinda fun to wear.”

There was that conceited smile again. Samuel hated when his babysitter looked at him like that.

“Let’s try this one more time. You do love your new wings, don’t you, princess? Hmm? Hmmm? Tell me how much you LOOOOOVE them.”

The defeated lad shook his head, then nodded. “I … I’m sorry, Nana. I really do love my new wings. I promise, I really do. They … they’re very nice, indeed.”

A vicious, satisfied expression lit up Irma Tully’s smug face. She hummed a little tune as she returned to her seat and took a sip from the cup that sat on the end table. The defeated lad noticed how grand she looked in her “Mrs. Claus” costume, holding court and looking quite content.

“That wasn’t so difficult, was it, baby doll?” she said with a smirk on her lips. “You like being Nana’s little sissy fairy, don’t you? Don’t you? Hmm? Hmmm?”

Samuel glanced over at the dressing mirror across the room. The fairy-like image looking back was almost surreal to him. He forced himself to keep smiling and he nodded.

“I … um, I … guess so …?” he said in a half whisper.

“You guess so? Are you saying you don’t know? Hmm? Hmmm?”

The bashful boy sighed. He hated it when she made him say things like this. It was so darned embarrassing.

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice wavering weakly.

“I don’t know. I don’t know,” the old woman clasped her hands together and rolled her eyes as she mocked the confused child. “It’s a very simple question, baby doll. Either you like being Nana’s little sissy fairy or you don’t. Now which is it?”

Samuel tried to swallow, but it was difficult. He dreaded saying things like “I’m a sissy,” but he knew what would ultimately happen if he didn’t. All he had to do was say the words and everything would be just fine.

Maybe.

“I … I guess I do like … being a sissy fairy ….” he muttered.

Mrs. Tully raised an eyebrow and flipped through the stack of photos in her hand. “You still don’t seem to be having fun, baby doll. You’re not the happy boy you said you were. And after you promised. Oh well, I guess you can’t keep your promise after all. I wonder which ones of these I should send to your daddy ....?”

“Please, Nana … don’t!” the terrified youngster sobbed. “I’m sorry! I … just don’t know what you want me to do! I’ll do anything you want … just tell me what to do and I’ll do it! Please? Pleeeeeeeassssse?”

The bosomy bully nodded. “Well, first off you can stand up. That’s it, get on your feet and stand up. Now, turn that frown upside down and look at me. No, don’t look down.

“Look.

“At.

“Me.”

Samuel took a deep breath and did as he was told. The grin on his babysitter’s face was more than he could bear.

“Okay, let’s make this simple.” She looked at her watch and nodded. “You have one minute to convince me that you are happy. Show me a happy little boy and maybe I won’t show your daddy these pictures. Come on, baby doll … show me the happy, pretty fairy princess I know you can be ….”

Samuel gritted his teeth for an instant. He felt like a fool as he stood up before his grandmother with wet tears on his face and his body once again open to her unfettered view. He thought for a moment, just an instant, about his friends and classmates. He bet none of them had the same problems he had. He tried to imagine one of them, any of them, standing in front of their grandparents wearing stupid fairy wings and nothing else, going around with a bare bottom and getting stupid baby presents for Christmas. He tried, oh how he tried, but the only thing he could picture was his own image, staring back at him in that dumb old mirror … or posing prettily in one of the photographs in his grandmother’s hands.

“You now have fifty seconds … time’s a-wasting, baby doll ….”

So now was the moment. It was all or nothing, or else suffer the consequences. The conquered youngster wiped his tears on the back of his hands and took a deep breath. He then paused, just for a second … after which he looked right into his babysitter’s eyes and he forced himself to smile as brightly and happily as possible.

“Oh, Nana, I was just kidding!” Samuel chirped in an uncharacteristically cheerful voice. “I’m happy now, I promise! See, just you watch! Look at me!”

The half-naked lad began bouncing up and down like a little child begging for a treat, making for quite the sight with his wings a-flutter and his skimpy gown swirling about.

“See? I’m fun! See how fun I am? I’m a pretty fairy! Let’s have some fun fun fun!”

Samuel stopped and looked at his babysitter. It wasn’t easy, saying such foolish things, but he thought it sounded authentic. But his words did nothing for his guardian. Absolutely nothing. She just sat there in her bright red dress, completely unmoved and silent, studying her wristwatch, listening, thinking … and judging ….

“Nana …?”

“Thirty seconds,” was all she said.

Samuel felt panicked! The lack of response from the old woman was intimidating, almost frightening. Something had to be done, and quick. Taking a deep breath, the crossdressed lad repeated his chant, this time waving his arms over his head in mock ballerina style and twirling around in a circle. He felt so stupid, so … so … ashamed. But if that’s what it took ….

“Look at me, Nana! I’m fun to look at! See! Look at me! I’m fun! I’m fun and funny! See how funny I am? I’m a pretty fairy! I’m a pretty fairy ready for some fun! Let’s have some fun fun fun!”

Samuel glanced over his shoulder as he pranced about, not letting up. The old woman looked as if she was about to smile. Maybe. His heart raced as he realized he had to work harder to please her.

“See how funny I am, Nana?” he sang brightly. “I’m a pretty fairy! I’m a pretty fairy, I’m so fun! See me dancing, let’s have some fun!”

Despite her best efforts to hide her amusement, it was obvious that Samuel’s impromptu song was getting to his babysitter. Her eyes sparkled and her pursed lips were on the verge of turning into a smile.

“Fifteen seconds,” she said in a teasing, girlish voice.

The anxious boy renewed his efforts, spinning around and around in a sparkly, fluffy dervish of a dance and making up the silliest song he could come up with:

“I’m a pretty fairy! I’m so fun!
I’m pretty fairy, see me run!
I’m a pretty fairy! I’m so dumb!
I’m a pretty fairy, see my bum!”

Samuel winced as he realized what he’d just said. He didn't mean for it to come out like that. Still, it was better than nothing. He started spinning in the opposite direction and repeated the childish poem, this time even louder and with more gusto.

“I’m a pretty fairy! I’m so fun!
I’m pretty fairy, see me run!
I’m a pretty fairy! I’m so dumb!
I’m a pretty fairy, see my bum!”

“Five seconds ….”

Samuel did it again and again, at least two more times, maybe more, until he got dizzy. He felt so embarrassed, spinning and dancing bare-bottomed in front of this wick witch of a woman, but he was determined to win her over. He spun and he spun, singing at the top of his lungs, his skimpy gown flaring out under his bare arms and his fairy wings fluttering behind him. Finally, woozy and cross-eyed, he had to stop in order to not fall down.

“I’m a pretty fairy! I’m so fun!
I’m pretty fairy, see me run ….”

That final act of desperation seemed to do the trick. As he uncrossed his eyes and caught his breath, Samuel could see Mrs. Tully’s face lit up with joy! To his relief she actually burst out loud, laughing happily at the youngster’s impromptu display of enthusiasm.

“See, I knew you could do it!” The plump woman applauded as if she had just watched a presentation at a school program. “That was just wonderful, baby doll! Just marvelous! You look sooooo sweet when you’re having fun. And you’re so witty! I just love your silly little fairy song! How charming! No, don’t stop. Keep it up … that’s it, princess, sing and dance for Nana!”

The blushing boy sighed. He’d rather not, but he did as he was told. As he resumed the childish routine he reflected on just how foolish he looked, dancing and spinning about nearly naked; it wasn’t exactly his proudest moment. The huge fairy wings banged against the back of his head and his curly locks were askew, while down below he’d felt his penis and balls bouncing wildly about. He didn’t dare look down at his privates for fear of what he might see. The look on his babysitter’s leering face told him all he needed to know.

“I’m a pretty fairy! I’m so fun!
I’m pretty fairy, see me run!
I’m a pretty fairy! I’m so dumb!
I’m a pretty fairy, see my bum!”

This time Mrs. Tully actually stood up and clapped her hands as if she was at a concert.

“Brava! Brava! Just marvelous! Do it again, princess! One more time for your old Nana!”

Samuel couldn’t believe it! How many times was he going to have to do this? He wanted to tell the old witch to go to hell, but the ache in his butt muscles warned him to reconsider. The defeated child sighed and began an encore of his childish dance. This time, however, his babysitter joined in, singing brightly at the top of her voice.

“Him’s a pretty fairy! Him’s so fun!
Him’s pretty fairy, see hims run!
Him’s a pretty fairy! Him’s so dumb!
Him’s a pretty fairy, see him’s bum!”

After a dozen or so repetitions things got ridiculous. It was as if some intoxicating spirit had infused the air. Before long the old woman and her grandson were laughing and acting as if this song and dance fest was the most natural thing in the world to do. Samuel’s heart raced wildly and for a few minutes he forgot how embarrassed he should be. Despite his anxieties he actually kinda sorta enjoyed himself; it was like he was being a little kid again.

Am I actually having fun, he wondered. Or am I just happy I’m not getting punished more than I already am? I mean, this is a lot better than getting my butt beat with that nasty old hairbrush, or letting my dad find out what a big sissy I’ve become.

Mrs. Tully was quick to point out his change in attitude. “See, baby doll, being Nana’s pretty fairy isn’t so bad, is it? Hmm? Hmmm? This really is fun, isn’t it? You can’t tell me otherwise.”

Samuel gave a sheepish smile and shrugged. “Yes, ma’am, it is fun,” he conceded.

“See, I knew you'd love it!” Irma Tully laughed. “Sweetheart, that’s all you have to do to keep from getting in trouble. Just be Nana’s sweet little sissy boy and have fun fun fun! You do that and Nana won’t have to use the hairbrush on you.”

Well, of course Samuel hated being a sissy, but he didn't dare say that out loud. Instead, he told his babysitter what she wanted to hear. Anything to keep from getting another spanking on Christmas morning.

“Yes, Nana,” he said with forced eagerness. “I do like being … you … um, you know.”

“No dear, I don’t know. What is it you like? Hmm? Hmmm?”

Samuel sighed. She was making him say it. He might as well get it over with.

“I, um … Nana, I like b-being your … your little s-s-sissy. I like it … very much.”

Mrs. Tully put her hand to her ear. “I’m sorry, princess. What was that? I didn’t quite catch it.”

The baffled boy smiled a weary smile. “I like … being your little sissy. I like playing Christmas fairy princess. I really do, Nana. I promise I really do.”

“I knew you would, baby doll,” the bosomy matron replied in a mocking voice. “Isn’t being Nana’s sissy and playing fairies on Christmas morning so much better than dressing up as an ugly ol’ soldier? Hmm? Isn’t it? Hmmm?”

“Yes Nana. Being … being a sissy is more … fun.”

“That’s right. No ugly ol’ army uniform for my pwetty wittle sissy boy. Hims wooks so pwetty in him’s sweet wittle sissy fai-weeee costume, hims just can’t staaaaaand it!”

The crossdressed youngster turned away from his grandmother and faced the mirror, doing his best not to cry. He hated it when Old Lady Tully teased him. It was bad enough that he’d agreed to do whatever she said. Here he’d just acted a fool for her and now she was mocking him like that? Why did she have to be so mean?

She’s just a mean old bully, he thought. I wish I could just run away somewhere. Maybe my mom will come back early from Florida and get me out of here. If only my dad would come get me. If only ….

Samuel wiped his eyes on the back of his hand. He then took a deep breath. Okay, so his mom wasn’t coming home early and his dad wasn’t going to rescue him. His conniving grandmother was large and in charge. Instead of fighting her, he would have to find a way to make the best of his situation. If that meant looking silly and pretending to enjoy being a stupid sissy, then fine. He’d do it. He’d be the biggest sissy in the world. After all, it was just him and his babysitter, so what did he care?

I’ll just pretend to be a little kid, he decided. I can do that. It won’t be easy, but I can do it.

“Nana?”

“Yes, baby doll?”

“I really do like my costume. Thank you for getting it for me.”

Mrs. Tully raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t get it for you, sweetheart. Your mommy did, remember?”

The red-faced boy nodded, then shrugged his shoulders. Though he was loathe to admit it, the chiffon gown felt kind of nice against his bare skin.

Nice and embarrassing!

“Oh yeah. I forgot.” the blushing twelve year old said. His voice was hoarse with emotion. “I promise, Nana. We’re … you and me, we're going to have, you know … just gonna have us some fun fun fun today! I promise!”

His babysitter smiled. “That’s what Nana likes to hear. Nana just wants her little baby doll to have some fun fun fun and be happy happy happy!”

Samuel forced himself to grin, just a little bit. His voice was trembling and weak. “I am having fun. And I am happy, I guess.”

The youngster was suddenly alarmed to see his babysitter’s eyebrow rise up in a skeptical arch. A twinge of fear shot up his naked spine.

“Hmmm, it doesn’t sound that way to me, baby doll.” The old woman’s voice was as sharp as the doubtful expression on her fat face. “You don’t sound as enthusiastic as you did a few minutes ago. Is there something wrong?”

Eyes wide and his mouth dry as sand, Samuel shook his head. “N-No, Nana. I’m … I’m fine. Everything is great! I promise.”

“Hmmm … I don’t know.” Mrs. Tully pursed her lips and squinted at him for a long time. “Let’s try that again. Who’s a pretty Christmas fairy princess? Who is it? Hmm? Hmmm? Who’s a pretty Christmas fairy princess?”

Licking his dry lips, Samuel turned to the mirror and gave his reflection another look. It was now or never time.

Okay, I’m just a little kid, he thought to himself. Forget that you’re twelve years old. Forget you’re in junior high school. Nobody cares about that. Nobody at school knows that you’re not wearing pants or that you look like a stupid girl. Or that you’re dressed like a stupid fairy ….

Nobody cares, nobody knows … I’m just a little kid … I’m just a little kid … I’m just a little kid ….

“Who’s a pretty Christmas fairy princess?” Mrs. Tully repeated. “Who is it? Hmm? Hmmm? Who’s a pretty Christmas fairy priiiiiinnnn-ceeesssssss?”

Samuel sighed. “Um, I guess I’m a pretty fairy princess, Nana,” he said in a soft, almost convincing tone.

His babysitter shook her head. “Sorry, baby doll. That’s not good enough. Try again.”

“I am a pretty Christmas fairy princess,” he croaked. He cleared his throat and spoke a little louder. “I’m … I’m a pretty Christmas fairy princess.”

The frowning woman held her hand up to her ear in a mocking, dramatic fashion. “I’m sorry, baby doll. What was that? Speak up, please. I couldn’t quite hear you.”

“I’m a pretty Christmas fairy princess,” the half-naked child repeated, his voice only the slightest bit louder.

“Again, please. Say it like you mean it, baby doll. Say it loud and say it proud!”

“I’m a pretty Christmas fairy princess!” Samuel yelled. He was so frustrated, shouting almost felt good, even if what he had to say was embarrassing.

“I’m a … A PRETTY CHRISTMAS FAIRY PRINCESS!!!”

“One more time. Come on, let them hear you next door.”

“I’M A PRETTY CHRISTMAS FAIRY PRINCESS!!! I’M A PRETTY CHRISTMAS FAIRY PRINCESS!!!”

“Now sing it!” the grinning woman encouraged. “Sing and dance for Nana!”

Samuel Oliver looked up at the ceiling and sighed. Not again! He could not believe what he was about to do. Wasn’t it bad enough that he looked like a fool in his prissy fairy costume with his bare bottom and privates showing?

Apparently not.

The defeated child took another deep breath and looked down as he exhaled; the sight of his plump body adorned in the chiffon gown was as repulsive as it was demoralizing. Oh, how he hated how his belly pooched out and his chubby breasts filled the top of his gown. The sight of his nipples pressing against the chiffon gown made him dizzy with confusion.

God, I am such a sissy, he thought in despair. So stupid … I guess I might as well start acting like one ….

Samuel grabbed the hem of his gown and twirled his nearly naked body around in a circle. The fluttering of the outrageously large fairy wings added to the bizarre feel of his predicament. A mixture of shame and despair swept over the seventh grade boy as he began to singing the most ridiculous song he could imagine ….

“I’m a pretty Christmas fairy princess!
Fa-la-la la-laaaa! Fa-la-la da-deeee!
I’m a pretty Christmas fairy princess!
Please come and look at meeee!”

What the ...? Samuel looked at his grandmother and she looked at him.

Where did THAT come from, he thought with genuine surprise. Did I really say all that???!!!!

A light of mischief in her eyes, the old woman nodded for him to continue. Not knowing what else to do, the contrite lad repeated the verse, a sick feeling rising in his belly.

Well, he had to sing something!

“I’m a pretty Christmas fairy princess!
Fa-la-la la-laaaa! Fa-la-la da-deeee!
I’m a pretty Christmas fairy princess!
Please come and look at meeee!”

Mrs. Tully laughed. “Oh, such a pretty song! I really like this one! Sing it again for Nana. Come on, don’t be shy, princess!”

Samuel rolled his eyes. He felt stupid dancing around like a bare bottomed ballerina and singing a little kid’s song, but if it made the old lady happy, why not?

I’m going to regret this, he thought. He took another deep breath and repeated the shameful words.

“I’m a pretty Christmas fairy princess!
Fa-la-la la-laaaa! Fa-la-la da-deeee!
I’m a pretty Christmas fairy princess!
Please come and look at meeee!”

The weary child paused for a moment, but a sharp look from his captor warned him to press on.

Remember, it’s all right if I just pretend I’m a little kid, he thought to himself. Nobody cares, nobody knows … I’m just a little kid … I’m just a little kid … I’m just a little kid ….

“I’m a pretty Christmas fairy princess!
Fa-la-la la-laaaa! Fa-la-la da-deeee!
I’m a pretty Christmas fairy princess!
Please come and look at meeee!”

Nobody cares, nobody knows, he kept repeating. I’m just a little kid … I’m just a little kid … I’m just a little kid ….

***

Irma Tully was having so much fun, she couldn’t recall the last time she laughed so hard or enjoyed herself quite so much. Seeing her twelve year old adopted grandson frolicking about in his adorable little fairy costume was amazing enough, but when he started dancing and singing, well, that was just the best! The bosomy babysitter was beside herself with joy, watching and cheering on as the bare bottomed boy danced and sang before her on this most wonderful of Christmas mornings.

“I’m a pretty Christmas fairy princess!
Fa-la-la la-laaaa! Fa-la-la da-deeee!
I’m a pretty Christmas fairy princess!
Please come and look at meeee!”

Oh, he looks so sweet, I just can’t stand it, the bullying babysitter thought to herself. Just think, only a few months ago he was a rude and disrespectful little brat. Now look at that sweet little face and that cute little bare bottom! He is so adorable, I could just eat him up!

“I’m a pretty Christmas fairy princess!
Fa-la-la la-laaaa! Fa-la-la da-deeee!
I’m a pretty Christmas fairy princess!
Please come and look at meeee!”

Irma had to laugh out loud, and out loud she laughed! Seeing a boy of Samuel's “maturity” revert to such silly, infantile behavior was one of the funniest things she could imagine. The mere sight of the twelve year old seventh grade lad prancing around the room with his plump bottom exposed and wearing those ridiculous wings was absolutely hilarious; hearing him struggle to sing a little child's song was icing on the cake!

The poor thing must hate himself about now, having to dress up and act so prettily, the conniving babysitter mused. Oh, he acts the part, but his heart still isn’t in it. Not just yet. I can tell. But that won’t last long. He’ll come around soon enough. All it takes is a little love and understanding – and some extended time over Nana’s lap!

Oh, what a wonderful Christmas gift the Lord has given me! I am a most blessed woman, indeed!

“I’m a pretty Christmas fairy princess!” Samuel sang for the umpteenthtime.

“Fa-la-la la-laaaa! Fa-la-la da-deeee!
I’m a pretty Christmas fairy princess!
Please come and look at meeee!”

Irma Tully clapped her hands and beckoned the child approach her.

“Now add some new words,” the merry matron cheerfully said as she gave the half-naked boy an enthusiastic hug. She then pushed him away, giving his bare bottom a hard SLAP with her hand. She was so happy that she laughed and giggled and cheered with great delight. Her smile was so big her cheeks actually hurt.

“Make it a different song than before, princess! Make it completely different. And no cheating!”

Samuel grimaced, then recovered enough to form a halfway genuine smile and nod. The daintily dressed child started to move, but then suddenly stopped, his plump body frozen in time and space. Except for the sound of Christmas music on the old stereo, the room was quiet. Breathing heavily, Samuel Oliver bit his lip for a second, then glanced at his grandmother. Irma raised an eyebrow and shot a stern look at her grandson; she almost smiled to see the panic in his eyes.

“Why are you stopping, princess? Is there a problem?” She lowered the tone of her voice, but not the volume, with menacing affect. “You’d best get back to your little dance. Or do I need to get my hairbrush?”

The worried boy shifted his bare feet, squirming uncomfortably under his grandmother’s unforgiving gaze. “You said make it a different song, right, Nana?”

“That’s what I said. Make up a completely different song with new words – no repeats and no cheating. It's not that hard. Little children do it all the time, so it should be easy for you. You’re smarter than a little child, aren’t you? Then go on, hop to it! Sing Nana another pretty song.”

Samuel nodded his head, his eyes looking upward toward the ceiling. He was obviously struggling with his thoughts.

Irma Tully raised an eyebrow. “I’m waiting, princess. What seems to be the problem?”

“I’m … I’m thinking, Nana. I ran out of words … you know, for a song ….”

“You ran out of words, hmm?” The bosomy bully nodded, just once, and smiled. “It’s just a silly song, princess. Don’t over think it. You’re a sissy, right? Of course you are! Then you should be an expert on silly little sissy things to do and say by now, don’t you agree? Hmm? Hmmm?”

A pout formed on the child’s lower lip. “I … I guess so.”

“You guess so? Of course you are! You’re Nana’s pretty, silly little sissy boy, so it should be easy to come up with something as simple as a silly little sissy song.”

Samuel nodded. “I … I guess so,” he repeated. In his bare-bottomed state he suddenly felt defenseless and childlike. Tears of shame welled up in his eyes.

Irma Tully smiled. “Then say it. Say it out loud. That will help you think of something to sing.”

The disgraced lad nodded. “I’m … I’m my Nana’s pretty, silly little sissy boy. Singing a … silly little sissy song.”

“There, that wasn’t so hard. Stop thinking and start singing. Right now. I mean it. Start singing right now if you don’t want that fat little bottom blistered!”

The bare bottomed boy was on the verge of crying. “I’m thinking, Nana. *sob* I … I promise I am. *sob* I just … I’m … I can’t … I can’t … think of words for a song ….”

Mrs. Tully snapped her fingers and pointed to a spot exactly twelve inches in front of where she sat. Samuel minced over and stood silent, his hands obediently behind his back, leaving his nakedness open and unprotected. The old woman’s heart melted to see him struggling to please, but she maintained a fierce, unforgiving exterior.

“You had your chance. I practically gave it to you, but you messed up, princess. Now I get mine. Go to my bedroom and fetch my hairbrush. Do it. Now!”

The panicked child’s eyes went wide with fright. “But I ….”

“You have exactly one minute.”

Irma smiled to see a flood of water fill up those shiny blue eyes. She resisted the temptation to take the bewildered boy in her arms as he let out a sob of despair. She so wanted to kiss him, tasted those sweet, salty tears and pinch his little bottom. But there would be plenty of time for that later.

“But Nanaaaa ….”

"You now have half a minute. And no running!"

The mischievous matron watched with delight as the ridiculously dressed youngster turned and speed walked across the room and up the stairs. There was no running in her house, of course; there never was and never would be, which added to the drama and excitement of the moment. The huge nylon and wire wings made the most interesting thump-thump-thump sound as Samuel hurried on his errand. Even when he was upstairs she could hear them, fluttering and banging about. They were almost as effective in helping her track his movements as a bell on the collar of a little kitten.

Hmmm … a bell and a collar, eh? The old woman grinned and made a mental note. That’s not a bad idea, either.

Samuel returned within the required time – just barely. He held the dreaded hairbrush as he would a poisonous reptile, with his fingertips and as far away from his bare body as possible. Irma took the familiar object in her hand, gripped it warmly and savored the moment.

“So, did you find your words? I’ll give you one more chance. Let me hear them. Sing me a cute little sissy song.”

The flustered child trembled with fear. He clutched his arms across his chest and bit his lip. Tears flooded his eyes as he sobbed aloud.

“I’m trying, Nana, but I … I can’t think of anyth- ….”

WHAP!!! Irma’s hand was quick as a snake, smacking the back of the heavy brush against Samuel’s plump bare thigh before he could say another word. She grabbed his wrist with her other hand, gripping it hard and keeping him close for the next inevitable blow.

The tearful lad squealed in pain. “Nana, puh- … p-p-pleeeeeeassssse ….”

SLAP!!! A second fiery strike hit him well below the buttocks, against that tender “sit spot” along the back of the thigh. Samuel hopped about, rubbing his free hand on the inflamed flesh. Years of experience told the sadistic sitter that she’d just set the poor child’s skin aflame with agonizing pain.

“N-N-N-Nanaaaaaaa … I … I’m …. soooorrrrrrreeeeeeee ….”

The bosomy bully smiled, running her forefinger along Samuel’s plump cheek, wetting the tip in the thick, wet tears. She drew the finger to her lip. The salty richness tasted sweet in more ways than one.

“I don’t hear any singing, princess.”

“I’m trying, Nana, I really am. I’m try- ….”

SMACK!!! She added just a bit more force to the third blow, and it showed; the blubbering boy bit his lip, breathless and bewildered all at once. He tried to cry, but the pain was so fierce, his little brain couldn’t go beyond anything other than trying to draw air into his lungs so he could catch his breath.

“I can keep this up all day, baby doll,” the smiling woman cooed. “Is that what you want? Hmm? Hmmm? If this is the way you want to spend Christmas Day, then that’s all right with me. We can do this until New Year’s if you like.”

WHACK!!! By this time Samuel’s knees were buckling. The distressed lad looked like he was about to fall over.

“OOWWWW!!! It huuuurrrrrrrtsssss,” cried the poor child. “I … I … *sob* … I don’t know … *sob* … wh- … *sob* … what … you want me … *sob* … to doooooooo ….”

CRACK!!! Irma Tully doubled the force of the fifth blow. She suspected this would be the one that made the best impression. Always leave them wanting for no more, she thought with a wry grin.

“AAAAAAGHHH!!! NANAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAA … no more … please, don’t hit me anymooooooorrrrrrre ….”

“I want to hear you sing another song, baby doll. Remember? You were doing so well a little while ago, but then you messed up. Sing and dance for Nana. Do it now … unless you want to spend the rest of Christmas Day bent over Nana’s lap getting your backside blistered.”

To her surprise and delight, the sobbing boy did something quite unexpected. He suddenly leaned in and gave the cruel woman a long, warm hug. She had to smile as the youngster’s arms clung to her as if his life depended on it; well, the integrity of his bottom, perhaps.

“I’m so sorry, Nana. I’ll do better, I promise. I’ll do better. I love you, Nana. I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love yooooouuuuu!”

Irma Tully smiled with gluttonous pleasure as the desperate child began peppering her bosom and neck with little kisses; the soft lips felt like warm, wet butterflies against her aged skin.

“I love you, Nana! *kiss-kiss* I love you I love you I love you! *kiss-kiss* I love you I love you I love yooooouuuuu!”

This was exactly what Irma Tully was after, unconditional and complete submission from her young prisoner, total and absolute. As much fun as it was to paddle pale plump bottoms until they were bright red, or to turn cocky, arrogant faces into tearful pleading ones; or even strip a rough and tough youngster down to his birthday suit and turn him into a simpering, prissy little princess – there was nothing quite like hearing the spontaneous and desperate declaration of love and affection come from a reluctant child’s lips. The more desperate the better, of course.

“I love you, Nana! *kiss-kiss* I love you I love you I love you, Nana! *kiss-kiss* I love you soooo much!”

So sweet, so delicious, the bosomy bully thought as the child buried his face in between her breasts; the wide expanse of flesh was covered in a flurry of fluttery, butterfly kisses, causing her to actually blush. The youngster knew what his guardian wanted, it seemed, and he was delivering it with greedy enthusiasm.

Mmmmm … such a marvelous sensation, she thought silently.

“I love you, Nana! *kiss-kiss* I love you so much,” Samuel said with his face buried in between the matron’s bounteous breasts. “I do I do I do! *kiss-kiss* I really do looooooove yooooouuuuu!”

Yes, actions and feelings had their place, no doubt about it; but words, especially powerful words, those would always be remembered, provided they are repeated often and with great conviction. Imprinting one’s will on a young mind was a great achievement and a worthwhile investment. It wouldn’t be long before all our villainous babysitter would have to do was raise a single finger and her precious Samuel would respond with the eagerness and devotion of a well-trained puppy.

“I’ll do better, Nana, I promise. *kiss-kiss-kiss-kiss-kiss-kiss* I love you, I love you I love you I love you I love yooooouuuuu …”

***

Samuel Oliver couldn’t believe he was kissing his grandmother again. Naked from the waist down, clad in little more than a wispy chiffon top and those aggravating fairy wings, he felt as ridiculous as ever as he clung to her immense form and planted kiss after kiss on her face, her lips and her bosom.

He was desperately stalling for time, anything to avoid having his bare butt set aflame with that stupid hairbrush. He kissed his hated enemy and he kept kissing her, anything to keep her distracted, anything to lure her away from the temptation of lighting up the fires of hell on his poor aching behind.

Poor Samuel had to come up with a song – and fast! He was desperate to come up with something, but what? What he sang before was just nonsense – embarrassing nonsense, but nonsense just the same. Not knowing what else to do, he began singing in between the kisses he gave, throwing out the words as they came to him. After all, that’s what a little kid would do, right? Just sing some more nonsense, something, anything to keep from getting his bare butt blistered ….

“I love you, Nana, I love you so much …
I love my Nana … please don’t spank my butt ….”

Speaking of which, the back of his thighs still burned like fire from where his grandmother hit him with that stupid hairbrush. It hurt so bad he was actually glad he wasn’t wearing any pants; the touch of anything against his skin would mean pure agony. The pain reminded him of the first time Mrs. Tully beat his bare bottom and how she made him feel like a little kid. It was humiliating and agonizing and totally uncalled for. It also put him in a place in his mind that was far from the confident pre-teen that he once was.

“I love you, Nana, I love you so much …
I love my Nana … please don’t spank my butt ….”

He hated the words he sang as much as the predicament that had become his reality. The only saving grace was knowing that except for the people in that room on that very day, no one really knew the shame he was experiencing.

I really am just a little kid, he thought to himself. Nobody cares, nobody knows. My mom doesn’t care. My dad doesn’t know. So I guess I really am … just a little kid ….

That’s when the song finally came to him. A flush of color came to his cheeks as they ran through his head and began moving his lips. Not so much a song as a confession, they expressed exactly how he felt at that moment … at that place … and that frame of mind ….

“I love being my Nana’s baby doll!
La dee da dee da! La de da dee dee!
I used to be a boy! Now I’m her toy!
La dee da dee da! La de da dee dee!
I’m a fairy princess! See my pretty wings?”
La dee da dee da! La de da dee dee!
Playing sissy games is right for me!
La dee da dee da! La de da dee dee!”

The blushing child sang the words like a musical lyric, running up and down the scale in a babyish, silly melody as he pulled away from his babysitter and began skipping and hopping about in his skimpy fairy costume. It was awkward and out of tune and completely nonsensical, but his performance served its purpose. It wasn’t good at all; it was horrible and shameful, coming from the mouth of a young boy who once had aspirations of being a jet fighter pilot and a soldier. But at that moment in time, well, it kept away that dreaded hairbrush and that was good enough!

“I love being my Nana’s baby doll!
La dee da dee da! La de da dee dee!
I used to be a boy! Now I’m her toy!
La dee da dee da! La de da dee dee!
I’m a fairy princess! See my pretty wings?”
La dee da dee da! La de da dee dee!
Playing sissy games is right for me!
La dee da dee da! La de da dee dee!”

“Oh, how sweet!” squealed his babysitter. “He’s Nana’s toy! I love it! Sing it again, princess! Sing it for your Nana!”

The dancing boy nodded and repeated the song, as much as he hated it.

“I love being my Nana’s baby doll!
La dee da dee da! La de da dee dee!
I used to be a boy! Now I’m her toy!
La dee da dee da! La de da dee dee!
I’m a fairy princess! See my pretty wings?”
La dee da dee da! La de da dee dee!
Playing sissy games is right for me!
La dee da dee da! La de da dee dee!”

Caught up in the moment, Samuel twirled left and right in a childish, clumsy faux ballet, playfully flipping the hem of his gossamer gown about, arms and legs and wings flailing around in a childish dance. His frustrations finally found an outlet, and he let loose, swaying about and dancing in front of his grandmother, knowing full well just how ridiculous he looked.

I’m just a little kid, he reminded himself. I’m just a little kid ... I’m just a little kid … I’m just a little kid ….

“I love being my Nana’s baby doll!
La dee da dee da! La de da dee dee!
I used to be a boy! Now I’m her toy!
La dee da dee da! La de da dee dee!
I’m a fairy princess! See my pretty wings?”
La dee da dee da! La de da dee dee!
Playing sissy games is right for me!
La dee da dee da! La de da dee dee!”

Samuel didn’t know if he should be relieved or worried. Mrs. Tully’s reaction to his singing and dancing was weird; she was laughing and clapping along like a spoiled little girl watching a dancing monkey. He felt completely humiliated, of course, prancing about in his frilly fairy costume and singing his silly songs, but as long as the old woman wasn’t mad at him and blistering his butt, then he guessed things were all right. He couldn’t wait for it all to be over, but how it might end he had no idea.

“One more,” the delightful woman called out. “Make up another song for your old Nana. You’re doing so well, baby doll, don’t mess up now.”

Samuel frowned – just for a second – but then he surprised himself as the next song came readily to his lips. As he sang the shameful words he wondered at his own creativity. Was he was starting to become the very thing he despised?

“I’m a happy sissy fairy, can’t you see?
Making Nana laugh is fun for me!
Dancing and singing silly sissy songs,
Is what I love to do all day long!”

“Ooooo, that’s the best one yet!” The bosomy bully chuckled. “Nana’s happy sissy loves making her happy! Sing it again, princess. Sing your silly sissy song for Nana!”

The crossdressed boy did as he was told. The knowledge that he was probably the only twelve year old boy on the planet dressed as a fairy and singing little kid songs for his babysitter was enough to make him dizzy with shame. Still, he sang and he danced as though his life depended on it. And in a way, it sort of did.

“I’m a happy sissy fairy, can’t you see?
Making Nana laugh is fun for me!
Dancing and singing silly sissy songs,
Is what I love to do all day long!”

This silliness went on until Samuel finally felt himself running out of steam. He was sick with confusion as he stood, red-faced and huffing and puffing before his grandmother. Here it was, Christmas morning and instead of playing with his new GI Joe and toy rifle, he was dressed as a half-naked fairy and entertaining the one person in the world that he feared the most. All he was doing was singing some silly old songs and dancing a stupid dance. He was laughing and giggling like he was having the time of his life, and yet he never felt so crushed in his entire life.

How can something so stupid, silly silly, make you feel so terrible, he wondered. It’s just a stupid pretend game … but it makes me feel so … weird … in both a bad way and a good way.

“I’m a happy sissy fairy, can’t you see?
Making Nana laugh is fun for me!
Dancing and singing silly sissy songs,
Is what I love to do all day long!”

With that final line the blushing boy slowed to a stop. He was tired and confused and trembling all over, a mess of emotions and exhaustion. As he caught his breath the dazed lad felt his whole body suddenly itch all over, a reaction triggered by the flow of adrenaline under stress. He tugged at the silk ribbons that held the wings to his body and he wiggled around some, but there was no slack anywhere and there was no way to get them off. They were on to stay. The only thing he accomplished in his struggle was to make the wings flap about. And that made his babysitter giggle.

“I love how you make your wings flutter when you dance,” she teased him. “How sweet! Do your little dance again for Nana, princess. Come on, keep going, my little fairy ….”

Samuel nodded. “Can’t I sit down for a little while? I’m really tired and ….”

A raised eyebrow and a stern voice cut him off. “You’re not too tired for another session with my hairbrush, I bet.”

The youngster’s eyes opened wide with fright. He quickly went into flight or fight mode. But instead of running or resisting, he redirected his new-found energy into his improvised dance routine.

“I’m a happy sissy fairy, can’t you see?
Making Nana laugh is fun for me!
Dancing and singing silly sissy songs,
Is what I love to do all day long!”

Suddenly there was a flash of light! Samuel gasped and turned around just in time to get blinded by yet another. The startled lad covered his privates with one hand and shielded his eyes with the other.

Not again! That stupid camera ….

“Nana! Please, no more pictures! Please … don’t ….”

“Nuh-uh! Remember what we talked about! You’re going to be happy happy happy and Nana wants some fun fun fun pictures of you dancing!”

The defeated lad nodded and smiled as big a smile as he’d done all that morning. He smiled and he laughed and he did his best to pretend he was loving every single moment of his humiliation. After all, there was no use arguing. He had handed over his dignity, signed, sealed and delivered.

This isn’t my fault, he reminded himself once again. I can’t help it … It’s not my fault …

… I’m just a little kid … I’m just a little kid ….

“I’m a happy sissy fairy, can’t you see?
Making Nana laugh is fun for me!
Dancing and singing silly sissy songs,
Is what I love to do all day long!”

Samuel skipped and pranced about the parlor for the longest time while his grandmother worked her camera. He smiled and he laughed and giggled and he primped and posed like he’d been doing it all his life. The funny thing was, as much as he hated what he was doing, it seemed to get easier and easier the more he did it.

It’s not that bad, he thought as he wiggled his bottom and flipped the hem of his gown out and around like an extra pair of fairy wings. Nobody cares, nobody knows … I’m just a little kid … I’m just a little kid … I’m just a little kid ….

“I’m a happy sissy fairy, can’t you see?
Making Nana laugh is fun for me!
Dancing and singing silly sissy songs,
Is what I love to do all day long!”

After a while Samuel realized Mrs. Tully had stopped taking pictures and was merely enjoying the show. Feeling quite foolish, he stopped and stood quietly, waiting to see if she was going to fuss at him again.

“You really got into it that time, didn’t you, baby doll?” The old woman patted the seat beside her, beckoning the exhausted lad to approach. “Come here and let’s see what kind of pictures we’ve got.”

Samuel sat down, grateful for the reprieve, despite the touch of the upholstery against his inflamed bottom. His heart was beating a thousand times a minute and his plump, girlish breasts heaved up and down as he fought to catch his wind.

Who knew being a sissy was such hard work, he thought bitterly to himself.

All in all, Mrs. Tully shot two rolls of film, plus another whole pack of instant pictures, producing a shocking amount of images showing her young grandson dancing in his childish Christmas fairy costume, bare belly, butt and all!

“Oooo, what fun!” the delightful woman exclaimed as she flipped through the growing collection of photos before Samuel’s disbelieving eyes. “Isn't this the best, baby doll? You’re so adorable, I just can’t stand it! See, sweetie, Nana knows what her little fairy princess likes.”

The poor boy endured the shameful show one picture at a time, slow and sure, one after the other. It was incredible to him that there would be so many photos of him looking so ridiculous, doing such babyish, embarrassing things.

“Yes, Nana,” Samuel said with forced delight. “We’re having fun fun … fun ….”

There was nothing else for him to say. He was too tired, physically, mentally and in his soul.

It’s just a stupid game, that’s all, he thought silently. It’s just the two of us and nobody will ever know. I’m just acting like a little kid to make Old Lady Tully happy.

Nobody cares, he kept telling himself. Nobody knows ….

To be continued ….

(The End)