A Very Tully Christmas 11

By David

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

* * * * *

A Very Tully Christmas

By David

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

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

Part Eleven

It was Christmas morning in the little house at the end of the lane and music was in the air. Looking like an obese Mrs. Santa Claus in a bright red dress trimmed in white fur and a white apron, Irma Tully hummed a cheery tune and danced around the kitchen. The promise of the day had her giddy with excitement; next to Halloween, Christmas was her busiest holiday when it came to preparing treats for her friends and sharing her holiday creations was one of her greatest joys. There were candies and cookies and cakes and pastries of all sorts to get ready and not a moment to spare!

The problem was, the delightful babysitter had so much fun that morning opening presents and playing with her adopted grandson she’d lost track of the time and gotten off schedule. There was so much to do and so little time to do it; she still had to visit the shelter and deliver gifts and a stop by the church and of course supper with Gertie. But first – and perhaps most important – was a quick surprise visit next door for some Christmas cheer. And, of course, that meant bringing plenty of Christmas treats because that was Irma Tully’s way!

After a quick recount and some mental math Irma decided she had prepared plenty for everyone. It was good thing, too; her Christmas morning had gone wonderfully thus far and sharing her creations with her friends and neighbors was going to be icing on the cake, so to speak.

“Icing on the cake!” She laughed out loud as she admired the little pastries she'd placed on the platter for the Millers. “Oh, Irma, you are such a card!”

The merry matron was just about to call for her grandson when he suddenly appeared at her side. Twelve year old Samuel Oliver was a vision of Christmas delight in his skimpy little baby doll gown and gigantic fairy wings. A sparkling heart-shaped tiara decorated the top of his curly blond head and a pink baby’s pacifier with butterfly wings covered his mouth; she had to laugh when she saw that he was vigorously sucking on his "binky," just like the little toddler he resembled! With a smug smirk on her face and a shake of her immense hips, she gave a playful tug on the ribbon attached to the colorful toy, but not enough to pull it from the blushing boy’s mouth.

“There’s my little baby doll … my pretty Christmas fairy princess! I was just about to call you! Good boy! You know Nana so well you showed up just in time and I didn’t even have to paddle your little bottom!”

The happy woman reached out and took the delicately dressed lad’s hand and held it high, a signal for him to do a cute little pirouette. As the youngster clumsily spun about the huge fairy wings fluttered loudly, going thump-thump-thump and nearly causing him to lose his balance and fall. Irma had to laugh, which in turn caused him to laugh as well. She smiled to see how girlish Samuel looked with his shoulder-length hair flying about and his plump little boy boobs and cherry pink nipples peering through the sheer chiffon of his gown; a single fragile bow held the delicate garment together at the bodice, leaving his chubby tummy bare and open to tickles and kisses and fun belly rubs.

“Mmmm, so pretty … such a pretty, pret-ty little boy …,” she sang joyfully. “Such a beautiful child! How did I ever get so lucky?”

Indeed, Irma Tully did feel fortunate to have a boy such as Samuel Oliver in her care. Naked from the waist down – a necessity for whenever he needed a quick “warning spanking,” of course! – the red-faced child looked so adorable, so much younger than his twelve years, dancing awkwardly with his plump little bare bottom exposed for her viewing pleasure. The ecstatic woman nearly melted to see just how perfect he appeared, from that pink angelic face to his cute little belly button to that bashful penis peering from between those chubby thighs, just like the beautiful cherubs in the mural at her church. It was official; there was nothing like a charming and obedient child in the house to make the hustle and bustle of the holidays worthwhile.

“That’s enough showing off for now, princess,” she suddenly said, dropping his hand and giving him a stern look. An incorrigible bully, she loved giving the poor boy a hard time and throwing him off his guard. “Did you get all of your chores done? Don’t tell me you didn’t do as Nana said.”

Samuel dropped the bewinged pacifier from his mouth and let it dangle around his neck. His expression was coy and flirtatious, a far cry from the pouty party pooper face he’d sported earlier in the morning. Irma wondered how long it would last before she had to give him another reminder on his plump little bottom.

“Yes, Nana, I folded all of the old wrapping paper and put it a stack, just like you said.” Samuel’s voice was soft and submissive as he addressed the imposing woman. It was as if he was in a trance, a spell perhaps, and under the complete control of someone other than himself.

“That’s a good boy, baby doll. Did you sort them by color the way I instructed?”

“Yes, Nana. I put the reds on top, then the oranges and pinks and blues and ended with the whites. The mixed up colors are on the bottom.”

“I see. And what did you do with the ribbons?”

The blond headed child wearily winced as he spoke. “I put them in the basket, just like you told me. I couldn’t untangle all of them. I’m sorry, Nana, but some of the knots were too hard for me.”

The gentle bully nodded. “That’s all right, baby doll. You can work on them later. It will give you something to over the holidays.”

Samuel sighed, just a bit. He was careful not to offend his babysitter. “Yes Nana. I’m sorry … I’ll get them done, I promise.”

“I know you will, baby doll. You'll do it and you'll do it right because you love your Nana, won't you?”

“Yes Nana,” he replied with a red face. “I … I really do … you know … love you.”

“And I love you, too, baby doll.” She leaned down and gave the young lad a warm, moist kiss on his plump cupid's bow lips. “Now put your binky back in your mouth. And don’t take it out unless Nana gives you permission, understand?”

Samuel forced a wan smile and nodded. “Yes Nana,” he meekly squeaked.

Irma Tully let loose a huge belly laugh as the bashful boy placed the pacifier between his plump lips and resumed sucking on it. She didn’t mean to laugh quite as loud as she did, but she couldn’t help herself. The poor child’s actions were so silly, they deserved ridicule; no other twelve year old boy – or girl, for that matter – would have willingly done such a thing. The truth of the matter was, Samuel had become so quick to please, so earnest in doing everything his adopted “grandmother” directed, and with good reason. Between getting his bare bottom paddled and his poor penis jerked on, his emotional state was no doubt a jumbled mess.

The poor boy doesn’t know up from down, she thought happily. Not to worry … I’ll help him find his way if it’s the last thing I do on this earth!

The merry matron giggled as she reflected on all the trouble she’d put Samuel through that Christmas morning; she'd laughed and smiled so much that her cheeks actually hurt! Oh, how she loved making the poor little thing suffer, whether it was by paddling his adorable pink bottom or dressing him up in the most preposterous costumes imaginable or diddling his little wee-wee until he was red-faced and speechless. She had victimized young lads in the past, but she hadn’t experienced this kind of fun – especially not on Christmas morning – in decades! Having someone so sweet and innocent and pretty to play with, to possess such a pliable, docile life-sized dress up doll to coddle and primp and poke at whenever she wanted, however she wanted … this was the best Christmas present ever!

As much fun as it was playing dress up games in girlish garb with young Samuel and making him blush all over, it was the subtle, petty punishments that she inflicted on him that really made the bullying babysitter smile; exhibiting total control over her adopted grandson was her ultimate pleasure, taming his adolescent tendencies and redirecting them toward silly, useless little chores. Making him organize and sort and fold up all of the morning’s discarded trash was absolutely delightful; she had no intention of reusing any of the old wrapping paper and ribbons – that would be most inappropriate, giving gifts with second hand wrappings, as far as she was concerned. Who does that, anyway? No, she just enjoyed giving the bewildered boy busy work, some mind-numbing, useless responsibilities to keep him occupied so she could concentrate on more important tasks at hand.

Irma Tully gave a girlish giggle as she noted the look of resignation in Samuel's expression whenever he performed his little tasks. No doubt he suspected the truth, that they were all a ruse, not to mention a complete waste of his time. The delighted woman found the touch of hopelessness in his sad little smile so delicious! She knew all too well how much little boys despised chores and how they hated even more being made a fool; the combination of the two was as bitter for him to swallow as it was sweet for her to watch.

I rather like that, she thought proudly to herself. A little humility is good for a young boy's spirit.

Indeed, this was no different than the duties she assigned him during his other visits. She thought nothing of putting the beleaguered boy to work scrubbing the already spotless kitchen floor or cleaning the sterile bathrooms or dusting the countless rows of chotchkies that lined the shelves scattered throughout her home. Wearing little more than a kitchen apron and a pair of panties – and on occasion nothing at all – young Samuel spent endless hours on a long list of household chores, oftentimes for entire weekends at a time, no doubt completely aware that his efforts were all for naught. The cruel babysitter took great pleasure in watching the poor lad answer to her every beck and call without question. She also enjoyed sharing his performance with her close friends, inviting them to tea so they could observe the blushing boy in action; it had become a favorite pastime, like having a well-trained pet perform the most amusing tricks.

Oh Irma, you are so bad, she thought with a smirk. Putting that precious child through such torment. It must be just awful for him – an awful lot of fun, that is!

The delightful woman was laughing once again at her little joke when a soft, polite voice suddenly broke her concentration.

“Nana? Are you okay?”

Mrs. Tully looked down to see Samuel staring at her. She gave the fairy-like child a deceptively warm smile.

“Shush, baby doll. Nana is thinking. What is your binky doing out of your mouth, anyway? Put it back before I get my hairbrush!”

“I’m sorry, Nana. I was just worried. You had a funny look on your face.” Samuel gave a meek, coy smile, then held up the silly butterfly pacifier to his mouth. “I’m sorry, Nana. I’m doing what you said, see? I’m shushing.”

Looking like a demented Mrs. Claus, the obese babysitter laughed gleefully as the youngster shyly popped the babyish toy in between his lips; seeing it wiggle up and down as he sucked on it was one of the funniest things she’d ever seen! For a seventh grade boy to do such a thing – and to smile as he did it – was such a delight! This was quite different than the rebellious creature who entered her house so many months before.

Samuel stood awkwardly before her, his hands clasped obediently behind his back, his outrageously huge fairy wings framing his childish figure; Irma Tully nearly swooned with pleasure at the sight, she was so happy! From head to toe he was a living work of art … and he was all hers! She noticed with no little pleasure how his little pink “wee-wee” had withdrawn into his body just above his smooth, hairless ballsack and showed no more than the hooded tip peering out from its hiding place. That was just as it should be, considering how she'd relieved her grandson of his boyish tensions only a little while earlier. If he had the audacity to generate another erection she would do the same, again and again, until she had him completely broken and under her thumb.

I’ve become rather “handy” in dealing with that nasty little thing, I think, she thought happily. “Handy,” hmmm …? Oh, Irma, you naughty girl! I’ll have to tell Gertrude that one!

***

For an instant the bullying babysitter allowed herself a little treat, reliving the delightful memory of abusing young Samuel in her mind. She smiled with great pleasure as she thought about how she had forced her adopted “grandson” to lie back in her lap and face the mirror, directing him to look at his ridiculous reflection; she remember with fondness sliding her hands under those silly fairy wings and around his waist and slowly and deliberately caressing him to a powerful, exhausting climax. The sensation of his warm little pixie penis in one hand and his precious plump little breasts and their hard nipples in the other fueled her perverse passion. The fat woman and naked boy made a ridiculous pair, she in her “Mrs. Claus” costume and the trembling lad in his fairy wings, trapped helplessly on her knee; his chubby legs spread wide apart and his soft, impish body writhing in shamed ecstasy under her expert touch.

What a lucky child, she thought with a giggle. No doubt he’ll never think of Christmas in quite the same way again. He will dream of dressing up in pretty clothes and playing fairies and dollies with ‘Nana Claus’ and enjoying her loving touch for years and years to come!

“Oh! Oh oh oh oh … oooooooh … goooosssshhhhh … Nana! I’m so sorry!!! Nanaaaaaa … I’m soooo sorrrreeeeeee …!!!”

Samuel’s climax was a powerful one, causing him to spasm uncontrollably and sob out loud with passionate emotion. An extraordinary amount of ejaculate spewed from his little penis, which Irma found most interesting; apparently her little prisoner was enjoying himself much more than his protestations would have her believe. She made a note to tease him about this the next time he tried to say he wasn’t having any fun.

“I … I’m s-sorry, Nana,” the shamed child said once he caught his breath and realized what he’d done. “I … I couldn’t help it. It … it just does that. I didn’t mean to make such a mess.”

“That’s all right, princess,” cooed the wicked babysitter. Brushing back his shoulder length locks, she kissed him on the neck and whispered warmly into his ear. “Nana knows what her pretty little boy likes, doesn’t she? And her little princess loves getting tickles and rubs from his Nana, doesn’t he? Hmm? Hmmm?”

Samuel sighed, then nodded. “Yes … Nana. I … do like it,” he whispered quietly.

After pushing the spent boy off her immense lap, Irma provided close supervision as he cleaned up the sticky mess he made on the floor and against the mirror. He made an adorable sight as he stumbled about, weak-kneed and disoriented, a wry, pitiful smile on his red face. He slowly lowered himself to all fours and wiped up the viscous stain, his breathing labored, his fairy wings aflutter and his pink bottom jiggling comically about.

So adorable, Irma thought to herself. Just so sweet! What fun this is … what a wonderful Christmas this has become ….

Once that was done the cruel matron topped off the occasion with an application of her special spicy ointment on Samuel’s pitiful worn out penis. She pulled back his delicate foreskin and rubbing the caustic concoction onto the sensitive “pink pearl.” The contrast between rapture and pain was evident in the sobbing boy's cries for mercy.

“No, please … Nana! It burns! It burns!”

“Oh, shush, you! This will help keep Nana’s precious little boy from getting any more ugly little notions” she cooed as she applied the spicy salve.

“But it burns, Nana,” Samuel whimpered through his tears. “It really burns bad ….”

“It’s supposed to, princess,” the sadistic sitter sang. “That’s what happens when naughty boys get naughty thoughts. Stop your dirty thinking and you’ll be just fine.”

As a consolation prize for his suffering she pulled the sobbing boy close, forcing his face in between the generous cleavage of her bounteous bosom and she hugged him in a smothering, claustrophobic embrace, all while humming a fanciful Christmas tune ….

And as she sang Irma Tully smiled down at the spritely child in her arms and she felt a warm shudder course over her immense body. Oh yes, Santa had been good to her this year. That was for certain.

***

Marlene Miller was having a very nice, albeit unspectacular holiday. To her chagrin she’d slept through the time she’d customarily risen on Christmas morning. It wasn’t until her mother roused her after nine o’clock that she’d realized her faux pas.

Oh, well, the curly-haired girl thought with a sigh. I’m not a little girl any more. It’s not like a real Santa left me anything under the tree.

She took her time getting downstairs, slipping into her robe and slippers, visiting the bathroom and finally sauntering into the living room with a yawn. Her mother and Aunt Margaret were already up, wrapped in their gowns, coffee cups in hand, sorting presents and chattering away as usual. The taciturn twelve year old gave a grunt and disappeared into the kitchen to help herself to a cup of coffee. As usual, she ignored her mother’s suggestion that hot cocoa was more age appropriate.

“Oh, leave her alone,” snapped Aunt Margaret. “Can’t you see that young woman is in need of her caffeine? She’s not a child any longer.”

Mrs. Miller shook her head. “She is not a woman yet, sister dear. She is and always will be my child.”

Marlene paid little attention to the conversation. She just didn’t feel like getting into it with her mother and aunt. Instead she just let the morning take its natural course, going through the motions without much thought at all.

Just another boring Christmas, she thought as she headed for the living room. I already know what’s going to happen next. That’s so sad. I wonder if it’ll always be this way for me…?

Per tradition, gifts were exchanged, as were hugs, and the trio lounged about for a while, surrounded by their acquisitions and trying to work up enough momentum to prepare the customary Christmas Day meal. It just wasn’t as much fun as it used to be, not since her father died. Marlene’s lack of enthusiasm was not unnoticed by the adults and they did their best to liven things up.

“Who wants to help me in the kitchen?” Mrs. Miller asked. “How about it, Marlene? Want to give your old mom a hand with some baking?”

“I say why bother?” quipped Aunt Margaret. “Let’s buck tradition and go eat Chinese! Less mess to clean up and we can spend the rest of the day napping.”

Marlene’s mother took a deep breath and sighed. “Really? Are you serious? Chinese take out … on Christmas? Honestly, woman, how do you live with yourself?”

“Very well, thank you.” The younger sister winked at her niece and laughed. “What do you want to do, Marlene? Hours of hard work, sweating and cussing in the kitchen? Or a quick drive down to the shopping center, some tasty eggrolls and back home for an afternoon of naps and lazing around the house?”

The young girl furrowed her brow and thought for a moment. She really wanted to go back to bed. She was about to say so when their conversation was interrupted by the ring of the phone.

“Who the hell could that be?” fussed Aunt Margaret. “It better not be your boss. You’re not going in, I don’t care what he says!”

“Oh do shut up,” Mrs. Miller shot back. “And watch your mouth, please. It’s Christmas morning, for Christ’s sake!”

Marlene couldn’t help but giggle behind her cup of coffee. Sometimes adults said the silliest things.

She watched in idle curiosity as her mother picked up the handset. Mrs. Miller listened for a moment and said, “Well, no, not really. Oh, really. Really? Well, no, I had no idea. Yes, absolutely. No, it sounds very interesting. It’s no trouble at all. We’re just … Yes, twenty minutes would be enough time. We’ll be expecting you. Oh, it’s no problem at all. Thank YOU so much for calling! It will be lots of fun, I’m sure!”

If it wasn’t for the peculiar smile on her mother’s face Marlene would have ignored the entire exchange.

“Who the heck was that?” the curious girl asked.

“Oh, someone you like,” her mother said with a coy smile. “And who likes you. A lot.”

Marlene frowned. She glanced at her Aunt Margaret and then back at her mother.

“Somebody who likes me. A lot?” The young girl paused for an instant, pushed her glasses up her freckled nose and then shrugged her shoulders. “Who the heck is that?”

Aunt Margaret echoed the youngster’s question. “Yeah, who the heck is that?”

Mrs. Miller’s face glowed with mischievous delight. “Our next door neighbor, Mrs. Tully.” She paused dramatically, then giggled. “She’s invited herself over here for a little Christmas cheer. Aaaaannnd … it sounds like she’s got company.”

Marlene’s eyes went wide with excitement. She’d been so down and depressed about her boring Christmas, she’d completely forgotten about Mrs. Tully and Samuel!

Oh god, I hope Samuel is with her, the preteen thought hungrily. She rolled her eyes as she gave herself a mental scolding. I am such an idiot! I didn’t even look out the window to see if he’s staying with her! Idiot! If he is, there’s no telling what all I missed. How dumb can you get?

“Did Mrs. Tully say what kind of company she has?” the freckle faced girl carefully asked. “I mean, is it Mrs. Haggard? Or maybe somebody else, maybe?”

Marlene’s mother shrugged. “Weeellllll … she didn’t say specifically. But I heard her fussing at somebody in a pretty firm voice. And it sure didn’t sound like she was talking to another adult.”

Marlene’s heart skipped a beat. With this news the possibilities of the day suddenly became endlessly optimistic! It has to be Samuel! The way her mother was acting, who else could it be?

This surprising news triggered an equally surprising reaction from Marlene’s Aunt Margaret, of all people. For an adult woman she had the most childlike, wide-eyed expression; judging from a sudden fit of the giggles, she obviously shared her niece’s enthusiasm.

“Well, this is certainly interesting news, isn’t it, Marlene?” The excited woman bit her lip and grinned from ear to ear. “I bet you can’t wait to see your little boyfriend. He’s just about the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen. After all that happened last Halloween ….”

“After what happened last Halloween, you need to stay away from that boy,” Mrs. Miller scolded playfully. “He’s less than half your age, you pervert. You should be ashamed of yourself from the way you acted around the poor thing. He had a hard enough time as it was!”

“Oh sure, I’m the bad guy.” Marlene snickered as her aunt stuck her tongue out at her mother. “I was just being a good auntie. You know, supporting my niece and helping her learn about boys and all that stuff. Besides, you were just as bad, sister dear!”

“I was not!” Mrs. Miller laughed. “Well, maybe a little bit. Okay, a lot. Both you and I need to mind our own business. My daughter ….”

“You mean MY NEICE!” interrupted Aunt Margaret.

“… does just fine on her own,” Mary Frances Miller continued, “thank you very much. So let’s make a deal. If … and when … Samuel ever comes over ….”

“We get to share in the fun, too!” Margaret said with a hoot and a holler.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Marlene’s mother snapped. “For Christ’s sake, can you for once act like an adult?!”

Marlene squirmed as her aunt gave her a little nudge under the ribs with her elbow. “I bet you can’t wait to see your little boyfriend again, hmm? I know how you feel.”

“Um, he’s not my boyfriend! He’s just a boy who’s my … oh, nevermind!” The seventh grader’s freckled face glowed with obvious pleasure. “Besides, Mom didn’t say for sure who was with Mrs. Tully. It might not even be Samuel.”

Aunt Margaret snorted. “Oh yeah, right. Your mother is just being coy. Trust me. I’ve known her all her life. It’s Samuel, all right. And if I know Mrs. Tully, this ought to be even better than Halloween.”

Marlene smiled. “I dunno about that. Halloween was pretty sweet. I don’t know how she can top that!”

At that point Mrs. Miller let out a huge sigh. “There’s no sense in wondering about it. Mrs. Tully and company are coming over in about twenty minutes, so I guess you two will just have to wait and find out, huh? The only question is, are you going to greet your guests in your pajamas or are you going to get dressed?”

Marlene looked back at her aunt and the two grinned and nodded their heads in unison. The young girl tried not to show it, but her Christmas had just taken a sudden turnaround.

Please, oh, please let it be so, she thought to herself. Please, oh, please oh please … LET … IT … BE!!!

This could be the best Christmas ever!!!

***

Twelve year old Samuel Oliver scratched at the plastic tiara clamped atop his head. He hated that stupid little toy crown and its sparkling rhinestones and prissy heart-shaped design. He'd spent a lot of time in front of the mirror that Christmas morning and he felt like the world's biggest sissy every time he saw himself. The fact that it itched his head like heck didn't help matters. But, like it or not, he had been ordered to wear his new Christmas present and wore it he did; it was either that or risk getting his butt blistered again ... and he sure didn't want that!

The same went for that dumb old pacifier in his mouth; he could not believe he was actually sucking on a stupid baby’s pacifier! From the moment he held the silly thing in his hand earlier that morning, he felt as though he’d fallen into some sort of bad dream where up was down and down was up and everything else was inside out. Boys his age – boys any age, except for babies! – just didn’t have things like that! They didn’t have them … and they sure as heck didn’t put them in their mouths. That was for damned sure!

Well, except for a certain seventh grade boy named Samuel Oliver. Samuel did a lot of things that other boys didn’t do, things that they would never even dream of doing like … well, like sucking on pacifiers and wearing fairy wings and running around half-naked and making old ladies laugh. He’d dance and sing for them like a trained monkey; he’d let them play dress up with him and do their dishes and scrub the floors and clean their house. He’d even let them grope and grab and pinch and poke his naked body, if that’s what they wanted; and many of them did. He’d do anything he was told as long as it kept him from getting his face slapped or his bare bottom paddled … or worse.

Because that’s just the way it was. And it seemed like it was going to be that way for a long, long time to come.

The dazed lad watched anxiously as Mrs. Tully hung up the phone. He felt a chill as the obese babysitter smiled at him; in her bright red dress she looked like Mrs. Santa Claus, only fatter and sillier and maybe a little crazier. The look on her face was evil and reeked of mischief, and that was not good; bad things usually happened when she was like that … and usually to him.

The gleeful woman licked her lips and gave him a playful, rather un-grandmotherly wink.

“Yes, princess? You appear to have something on your mind. Do you have a question?”

Samuel pulled the pink plastic pacifier from his mouth. Oh, how he hated being called “princess”! He also hated being called “baby doll” and “sissy” and “fairy” and “Miss Priss” and just about every other stupid name his “grandmother” used when she referred to him. He’d been called “baby doll” for so long he was beginning to think that was his name. But ever since morning when he’d put on that silly tiara and Mrs. Tully christened him “princess,” that was all he’d heard; “Princess, please do this!” and “Princess, please do that!” Every time he turned around it was princess, princess, princess! He was afraid if it didn’t end soon he might start thinking he was a real live princess … and that would really be awkward.

“Hello? Princess? If you have something to say, then say it. Otherwise, put your binky back in your mouth and go back to looking pretty for your old Nana, all right? Hmm? Hmmm?”

Samuel nodded. “Well, um ….”

The anxious lad hesitated before he spoke, as if he was half afraid to say what he was thinking. He knew full well the bullying babysitter would take every opportunity to have fun at his expense. He tried to phrase his words carefully so as not to give her any ideas that could be used against him.

“Um, Nana, I have a question,” he continued shyly. He sounded more like a preschooler than a seventh grade boy. She liked to hear him talk like that and it never hurt to play up to her expectations, no matter how silly they made him feel.

“Yes, princess, what is it? And speak up, darling boy! We don’t have all morning. Nana has things she needs to do before we go visiting.”

Samuel frowned. “Well, that’s what I wanted to ask. Um, we’re not really going to visit Marlene and her folks, are we? I mean, I heard you on the phone just now. You … you were just teasing, right? You’re not really taking me next door … are you?”

The youngster winced as the massive matron reached out and ran her hand through his long curly blond hair. He always felt like a little child when she did that, but he stood obediently and smiled back at her. It was expected.

“Oh, you silly boy, of course we’re going next door. You heard me talking to Mrs. Miller. Did I sound like I was teasing?”

Samuel fiddled with the pacifier in his hands for a moment. He then looked up with a forced smile on his cherubic face and he shook his head. “No, Nana.”

“Did I stutter? Hmm? Did I?”

The frustrated lad shook his head again; the smile wilted ever so slightly. “No Nana. You di- … d-didn’t stutter.”

“And did I sound like I was telling a lie?”

By then the child’s eyes were shiny with tears and his smile had faded. He hated when she teased him like this.

“N- … no, Nana.”

“Of course I wasn’t!” said Mrs. Tully. “I was telling the truth. And the truth is, Nana and her pretty little fairy princess are heading out the door in just a few minutes to bring Christmas cheer to our dear neighbors. And after that we’re going to the homeless shelter and then to my church. And after that we’re going to Mrs. Haggard’s home for a lovely Christmas supper! Doesn’t all of that sound like fun?”

Samuel lowered his eyes in shame, but that only made him feel worse as he was reminded of how he was dressed ... if you could call it that. The skimpy nightgown he wore left his bare belly and smooth, hairless pubic mound completely exposed to view; from the waist down he was completely nude, which drove him crazy. After all of these visits with this weird old lady, he still wasn’t used to going without pants! He fought constant the urge to cover his privates and his bare bottom with his hands, which he clasped behind his back in deference to his grandmother’s wishes.

He thought about what his grandmother just said. She wasn’t serious. She couldn’t be. There was no way she was going to take him out and do all those things … was there?
To take him outside and put him in the public eye … dressed like … THIS??? With his bare bottom showing … and his stupid wiener hanging out? She had to be kidding, right? Either that or … maybe she really was crazy!

The mischievous matron tapped Samuel on the nose and she giggled, just like an overgrown spoiled little girl.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, princess? Hmm? Hmmm? You look like you’re deep in thought. What did I tell you about that? Didn’t I say to stop thinking? Didn’t I say that your job is just to do as Nana says and to look pretty?”

Samuel nodded. “Yeah, but ….”

“But nothing! To answer your question, yes princess, we’re going next door to visit our friends. And why not? It’s Christmas day and you’re supposed to visit your friends and family on Christmas. And Marlene is your friend, isn’t she? Your little girlfriend, if I’m not mistaken. I’d think you’d jump at the opportunity to see her.”

The worried child sighed with a pout. “M-Marlene isn’t … she’s not exactly … my girlfriend.”

“Tell that to her mother and her aunt,” Mrs. Tully said with a snicker. “From what I hear, you’re all she talks about. I think our pretty Marlene has a pretty serious crush on my pretty little princess!”

The nearly naked boy bit his lip. “But Nana … I … I really don’t have to go over there looking … like this ... do I, Nana? I mean … she’ll see me … almost naked and ... looking like a sissy. Please, Nana, I don’t want her to see me like this. Can’t I just stay here? Please?”

“Nuh-uh, princess. You’re coming with me.” The bullying babysitter put her hands on her hips in a very grandmotherly fashion and shook her head. “I’m certainly not leaving you in this big old house by yourself. Who knows what kind of nastiness you’ll get into if I’m not around to keep my eye on you!”

“But I really don’t wanna go,” the fidgeting lad said quietly. He glanced down again at the flimsy chiffon gown; he tugged at the frilly hem in a vain attempt to cover his shame, but the ruffles barely reached his bare hips, which only made him feel worse.

“Please, Nana, you can go without me,” he carefully suggested. “I won’t get into anything. I’ll be good. I won’t get into any … anything nasty. I promise!”

“That’s not the point, princess. I’m going to need your help in carrying our Christmas treats.” The bosomy matron gave a little giggle, causing her breasts to jiggle most impressively. “Plus I want to show off my pretty little fairy princess. I think Marlene will be impressed when she sees your cute costume, don’t you?

Samuel’s watery blue eyes went wide with concern; a stray tear ran down the side of his cheeks, giving him an almost infantile appearance.

“But Nana … I’m … I … I don’t have any pants on! I’m almost naked! I don’t want to go outside like this! It’s been snowing! I might freeze to death!”

“You won’t freeze to death. I promise. If your bottom gets cold I can always warm it up with my hairbrush!”

Samuel cringed at that comment. If there was anything he did not want for Christmas it was another spanking. His poor butt was sore enough as it was!

“But … p-people will see my … my b-bare bottom and my … you know … my, um, wee-wee.” He winced as he said the childish word, but he had to use the proper terminology or risk punishment. “You … you can’t t-take m-me out … t-to see … p-people like this! Please, Nana! Please don’t make me … make me go … not like this. Puh-leeeeeeeeassssse?”

Mrs. Tully let out a loud bellowing laugh, as if she’d heard the funniest joke ever. With her hands on her hips, she laughed and she laughed, throwing her head back and enjoying herself immensely. In her bright red and white fur trimmed Christmas dress, she looked just like a demonic Mrs. Santa Claus to the nearly naked lad cowering before her.

“You don’t have to laugh at me,” Samuel said with a pout. By now he’d given up trying to please her. Things were getting serious!

“This isn’t very funny. It’s not funny at all!”

“Oh, but it is, princess. It’s very funny.” The plump woman raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “It’s funny and it’s going to be fun. Whether you like it or not!”

“But … Nana ….”

“BUT NANA, I DON’T HAVE ANY PANTS ON!!!” The bullying babysitter echoed the startled boy’s words in the loudest, most sardonic, mocking voice Samuel could imagine. She quite literally shouted as she repeated his own words back to him.

“People will see my bare bottom! They’ll see my little wee-wee! I don’t wanna go see people on Christmas! I don’t wanna go and you can’t make me! PLEASE DON’T MAKE ME GO, NANA! PLEASE OH PLEASE OH PUUUUUH-LLLLLEEEEEEEEASSSSSSE!!!”

The frightened boy blanched at the unexpected outburst. He hated when Mrs. Tully mocked him like this; it was one of the most hurtful things she ever did to him and it only made him want to cry even more than he did before.

“Poor little me! I don’t have any pants on, Nana,” the cruel matron echoed sarcastically. “People will see my bare bottom and my little wee-wee! Please don’t make me go, Nana! Please oh please oh puuuuuh-llllleeeeeeeeasssssse don’t make me gooooooo!!!”

Had his babysitter gone mad? For a moment the tearful lad was so afraid he thought she was going to strike him, or worse, take him upstairs and paddle his butt … and perhaps do other things to it as well. But that’s not what happened. He cowered in fear and braced himself for something that never came to be. Rather, his grandmother burst out in even louder laughter and said the most curious thing.

“Sooo, you don’t want to show off your cute little bottom and your wee-wee, hmm? Then what do you think we should do about that? Hmm? Hmmm? What would you have ME do? Hmmmm?”

The confused lad thought for a moment. He then shrugged and whispered, "Um, maybe you could let me wear some clothes?"

“Some clothes, hmm? Are you asking me or telling me?”

“Um ... asking?”

The fat matron put her finger to her chin and rolled her eyes in an extravagantly silly way; she looked like a comic book character striking a pose, she was being so dramatic. Samuel would have laughed if he hadn't been so scared.

“Some clothes for a pretty little boy to wear.” The buxom bully clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes again. “Hmmm …. I don't know if we have anything for a little boy like you, my pretty princess. I wonder if we could find anything in this great big old house for a pretty … pretty … pretty … little sissy … boy … to wear ….”

The anxious lad thought a moment. That was a good question. What was there for him to wear? He thought about the clothes he brought when his mother dropped him off, but he truly doubted Old Lady Tully would let him have them back so soon; the ugly old witch always locked away his regular things within minutes of his arrival, leaving him to either go naked or don some humiliating thing like a t-shirt with a bunny on the front or a skimpy pair of girl's panties.

Blech, I sure don't want to go next door looking like that, he thought in disgust. Maybe if I ask real nice ....

“Well, Nana, you could let me wear the clothes I was wearing when my mom dropped me off,” he said pleasantly. “That would be okay, wouldn't it?”

Mrs. Tully clucked her tongue once more and she shook her head dramatically from side to side. "Oh no, princess, no no no no nooooo … we must definitely not do that! You know Nana’s rules. We have to keep your things nice and neat for when you go home. Besides, Nana hasn't forgotten how you tried to run away from her that one time. Oh no no no no nooooo, that will never do!"

“But Nana, I won't run off! I promise!”

"Shush! Nana will not hear any more about that! Now you can either come up with another idea or you can" – she giggled like a little girl at this point – "just go as you are!"

Samuel clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. This was so frustrating! Nothing was ever easy when dealing with his babysitter. She always made the simplest things difficult for him, whether it was what he wore or what he said or even what he thought. No matter what he said or did, she always had to have things her way and never his. It was like he was a little doll that belonged to a spoiled little girl. And if there was one thing he knew about his "Nana," she always got whatever she wanted!

“Come now, princess,” the grinning grandmother cooed sarcastically. “There has to be something you could wear to cover that cute little bottom and your silly little wee-wee. I wonder what it could be …? I wonder … where could we find something pretty pretty that a pretty pretty boy could wear …?”

Samuel frowned. He knew what his captor wanted. He just didn’t want to go along with her wishes. He glanced toward the other room where a collection of little girl clothes was on display beneath the Christmas tree. His heart skipped a beat as a flurry of images flashed through his mind … images frilly new frocks and prissy dresses and silly, childish little-girl things that no boy on earth would have anything to do with … not ever!

Oh God … she’s gonna make me do it. She’s really … really gonna make me … put on girl’s clothes … and … and wear them on … Christmas day!

He shot a glance up at his babysitter and the gleam in her eye confirmed his fears; it looked as though he would be spending the holidays in a way he’d never before imagined.

“Let’s go take a look, princess,” the smug-faced woman said sweetly. She held out her hand. “Surely we can find something appropriate for my precious little boy to wear when he visits his pretty pretty girlfriend.”

I think I’m gonna be sick, Samuel thought to himself ….

Following Mrs. Tully into her parlor, Samuel Oliver stared at the display of colorful feminine finery spread out beneath the festive Christmas tree. The stunned child still could not believe that he had been given such horrible, terrible gifts for Christmas. As much as he hated to admit it, he was the not-so-proud owner of more dresses than most of the girls he knew!

Blech, he thought as he surveyed the scene. I can’t believe all of this stupid stuff is really mine! Why did my mom get me these things? I bet Old Lady Tully put her up to it!

Ugh! This is the worst Christmas ever!

Indeed, it was a remarkable sight to behold! There were frilly frocks and party dresses and princess gowns and ballet costumes, each more colorful, more girlish and more childish than the other. Everything was so juvenile, so silly, so over the top, no girl Samuel knew would ever consider dressing up in such prissy outfits; certainly no junior high school girl, that was for sure! There was even a silly little girl version of a French maid’s costume, which he considered the worst of the lot!

Boys aren’t supposed to get such things, he thought fretfully. It’s not fair … it’s not fair at all!

“So what do you think, princess?” Mrs. Tully raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Surely there’s something here that you’d like to wear … and maybe show off to pretty Marlene?”

The defeated youngster looked down at his nearly naked body and he sighed. He hated the idea of wearing a dress; but he also hated going without any pants. His butt was too big and his stupid penis could barely be seen, having withdrawn to its mysterious hiding place between his chubby thighs. Oh, how he hated how that ugly thing looked! It didn’t matter if it was little or sticking out, it was the most hideous thing he’d ever seen! Why did he have to have one of the dumb things anyway? All it ever did was cause him problems!

“Come along, princess. Make up your mind,” the old woman cooed. “If you can’t find anything, you can just go as you are. I’m sure Marlene and her family will just looooove love love love to see your fat little bottom and your cute little wee-wee again. They didn’t seem to mind so much when they came over for Halloween, if I remember correctly. Maybe if you’re lucky Marlene will want to paddle you on your bare bottom again!”

Mrs. Tully sang the words with all of the warm and enthusiasm you’d expect from a grandmother describing a wonderful, exciting Christmas surprise. Only it wasn’t wonderful and it wasn’t exciting; it was dreadful and it was horrible and it was ugly. And Samuel did not want anything to do with it!

Frustrated to the point of tears, the befuddled lad tugged at the straps that held the giant fairy wings tight against his body; he then reached up and touched the little silver tiara that sat atop his curly head. He wiped his eyes, shrugged, then nodded in resignation. He knew what lay before him and he didn’t like it. Not one little bit. But it seemed to be his only choice.

Oh well … wearing a stupid dress can’t be any worse than this, he told himself. At least nobody will see my stupid bare butt. It’s just like a costume, right? I mean, it has to be better than what happened last Halloween ….

Right?

“Um, Nana?” He cleared his throat and tried not to break out in tears; what he was about to say was not easy for him. “Um … well, I really don’t want to go bare bottomed anymore. Soooooo I was thinking ….”

The mischievous matron raised an eyebrow and ran her fingertip along the nervous boy’s naked shoulder. “Yeeeeesssssss …?”

Samuel forced himself to smile. “Well, um, maybe … just maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if maybe I … I put on … you know … one of the … the … d-dresses … I got. You know … for Christmas.”

Mrs. Tully's face lit up with mischief upon hearing her adopted grandson’s words. He’d known all along that this was exactly what she wanted to hear from him, the very thing she’d been working toward. He just didn’t want to admit it to himself. What boy would?

But then it got weird. His grandmother was so excited to hear him ask to dress up in his pretty clothes, she visibly shuddered with delight; her breathing was labored and she seemed to tremble with an inordinate amount of pleasure. Samuel could see that she was clearly happy with him at that moment, but he also knew from experience that she was not about to make the next little while so easy for him.

"Say that again, princess?” the fat babysitter said. “Say it … one more … time."

Samuel pressed his lips together and resisted the urge to sigh. His face burned hot as he spoke the words: "Um, I asked if ... maybe it would be all right if I ... wore one of ... the d-dresses that I ... I g-got for Christmas. If that's all right with you, I mean."

The mischievous matron smiled a most evil, almost rapturous smile.

“Soooo, what are you saying, princess? You want to wear one of your pretty Christmas dresses? Did I hear you right? You’re not really going to put on one of those awful girl’s dresses when we go see your little girlfriend, are you? Haha! I thought you didn’t want her to think you’re a sissy boy!”

Samuel nearly strangled at the thought of showing up on Marlene’s doorstep in a dress. Her seeing him in those stupid angel wings last Halloween was bad enough; she’ll never let him live this down! But still, the thought of doing so in his bare skin, fairy wings and gown notwithstanding, was an even more repulsive idea.

“They’re not … not so bad,” he mumbled. “It … it’ll be fun … you know … playing dress up for, um … you know … for Christmas.”

Irma Tully giggled wildly. “Oh, so now my wittle sissy pwincess wants to pway dwess up in his pwetty wittle sissy cwothes? Is that wight? Hims wants to dwess up wike a wittle sissy girl? Hmm? Hmmm? Is that wight, pwincess? Hmm? Hmmm?”

Samuel tried not to get mad or cry, though he was on the verge of both. He hated when his grandmother talked to him like he was a baby. It was hard enough asking to dress up as girl, but he really didn’t want to spend Christmas day in his bare skin.

I'm twelve, almost thirteen years old, he thought in frustration. I am not a baby and I’m not a girl and I don't need to be treated like either one!

Why is this kind of thing always happening to me???

The grand matron put her hands on her hips and clucked her tongue. “Tsk tsk tsk … you’re not changing your mind, are you princess? Maybe you’d rather go visit your little girlfriend and her family as a pretty sissy fairy? I’m sure they’ll have a lot of fun looking at your fat little bottom. And so will everyone at my church as well.”

Samuel imagined himself standing before Marlene and her mother and aunt in his gown and fairy wings. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d seen him in such a precarious predicament, with his penis exposed and his bare bottom hanging out. But that was not his preference. The bewildered boy cleared his throat and croaked out the words.

“Oh no, Nana! That’s not what I meant. I mean, since my mom went through the trouble of getting all of these nice clothes for me … I just thought … just maybe ….”

“Okay, lover boy, you want to dress up? Then tell me all about it.” The gentle bully purred with pleasure. “Tell Nana how you want to dwress up in the pwetty cwothes your mommy got you. Say it … come on, princess … saaaaaaaay it ….”

The red-faced lad swallowed, then licked his lips. “I, um … can I … I mean, is it okay ....”

The cruel woman shook her head. “Nothing is okay until you do as I say, princess. You can either say it now, or you get over here and bend over my knee. Maybe that will help you think straight.” She raised an eyebrow, daring him to choose the wrong words.

Samuel bit his lip. His choice was clear. Clear and disastrous.

“I was just saying … how much I’d like … to try on … the clothes ... my mom got me.”

“That's not good enough.” Mrs. Tully smiled. “Say ‘I want to twy on the pwetty cwothes my mommy got me.’ Say it.”

The nearly naked boy took a deep breath. “I … I … I want to … t-try on … the ... the p-pretty … c-clothes ... my mom ... got me..”

“Not good enough, princess. It’s ‘twy’ not ‘try.’ And it’s ‘pwetty’ not ‘pretty.’ Don’t you know anything?” The delightful woman giggled. “Also, from now on I want you to say ‘mommy,’ just like a little baby. Do that from now on. And say it like you really mean it. Do it … NOW!!!”

Samuel sighed. He knew what he had to do. He knew what his grandmother wanted. It was the same thing she always wanted. This wasn’t going to end until he made a complete fool of himself. He’d done it for her a million times in the past. He just had to do it again. Only then would it be all over with. Maybe.

He took another deep breath, forced himself to grin and came up with as much enthusiasm as he possibly could:

“Nana, I want to … twy on … twy on the pwetty cwothes … my … m-my m-mommy … got me. Pwease, may I?”

An evil smile curled her lip. The smug woman put her hand to her ear, playfully teasing the naked child.

“What was that, baby doll? I can’t hear youuuu ....”

“Oh, Nana ….”

Samuel took a deep breath. He then clasped his hands together and started jumping up and down, just like a little child might do. He knew he looked foolish, bouncing about in his birthday suit and acting like a baby, but at this point he'd do anything to keep his babysitter happy. And keep from going outside with his bare bottom exposed!

“Pwease, Nana? Can I pwease twy on my pwetty cwothes? Pwetty pwease? Oh, pwetty pwetty pweeeeeease, wet me try on the pwetty pwetty pwetty cwothes my mommy got me! PWEEEEEEEASSSSSE???”

“One more time, please,” the plump woman sang. “I didn’t heeeeear yooouuuuuu!”

Samuel sighed. This time he put his whole body and soul into the chant, ignoring the pang of humiliation that pulled at his gut.

“Oh puuuuh-weeeeeeeassssse, Nana! Pwetty pwetty pwetty pweeeeeease, wet me try on the pwetty pwetty pwetty cwothes my mommy got me! PWEEEEEEEASSSSSE???”

Mrs. Tully clapped her hands and giggled like an overgrown child; she shook so hard her huge boobs bobbed and wobbled about so much Samuel thought she’d lose her balance and fall over. He also noted with curiosity that once again her breathing was erratic and her neck and breasts were covered in red splotches. The excited woman was clearly overjoyed by the spectacle of a twelve year old boy dressed as a Christmas fairy jumping up and down and begging to wear little girl’s clothes.

Eew, that is really weird, he thought to himself.

“My, oh my!” cried the bullying babysitter. “Isn’t that just adowable? Nana’s pwetty wittle pwincess boy wants to twy on his pwetty wittle sissy cwothes. Is that wight? Hmm? Is that wight, baby doll?”

The mortified boy nodded his head and smiled a fake but necessary smile. He couldn’t believe he was actually playing along with his grandmother’s stupid game, but what choice did he have?

I’m going to regret this later, I just know it, he thought wryly. Oh well … it could always get worse, I guess ….

“Yes, Nana!” Samuel replied, doing his best to sound enthusiastic. “The pwetty pwincess wants to twy on his pwetty new sissy cwothes. Can I pwease? Oh pwease can I? Pwease? Pweeeeeasssssse?”

The plump babysitter clapped her hands and laughed and laughed at his over the top performance. She laughed so hard for a moment the startled child wondered if she might have a spasm or even a heart attack.

“HAHAHAAHAAAAA!!! HAHAHAHA!!! HAHAHAHAAAAAAA!!!!”

He imagined for a moment the awkwardness of being present when the authorities showed up to render assistance, standing nearly naked in his fairy princess costume while paramedics administered cardiopulmonary resuscitation to the stricken woman.

That would be awful, the panicked boy thought as his babysitter sputtered and guffawed at his expense. He looked over at the pile of girlish gifts and back down at his own ridiculous appearance. If she dies … and I have to call for help … how in the world am I gonna explain all of this???

“HAHAHAAAA!!! HAHAHAHA!!! HAHAHAAAAAAA!!!!”

“It’s not that funny,” Samuel muttered.

“Oh … *gasp!* … but it is, you silly thing!” the laughing woman declared. “You silly … *gasp!* … prissy little thing! Hahahahaaa! You are so funny! … *gasp!* … You silly silly ... pretty little sissy! You are soooooo funny … *gasp!* … you’re almost as funny as you are pretty!”

“HAHAHAAAA!!! HAHAHAHA!!! HAHAHAAAAAAA!!!!”

After a few more embarrassing moments of mocking, uproarious feminine laughter, the room went quiet. Recovering from her rapturous glee, Mrs. Tully cleared her throat and abandoned the baby talk. Now instead of an overgrown child she sounded more like the cruel, contemptuous adult that she was.

“Oooooo … that was good! You’re learning, princess. Such a good baby doll you are! You almost made Nana pee herself, you sounded so convincing.” Her eyes narrowed into suspicious slits and she licked her lips hungrily. Her voice suddenly turned serious and almost threatening. “The question now is, do you mean what you say?”

“But I do mean it, Nana.” Samuel could not believe he was actually saying this but he was desperate not to spend Christmas day in his bare skin. “I really do want to … to try on … my … pretty new … s-sissy clothes. I want to try them on and pick something out to wear when we go visit Marlene and her family. I really do, I promise!”

“You really do?” The wicked matron grinned. “Really REALLY?”

“Yes, Nana. I really REALLY do.” The blushing boy felt just awful saying the dreaded words, but he knew this was his only hope for not being completely humiliated on what was supposed to be the best day of the year.

I just hope my friends at school never find out about this, he lamented silently.

As if by serendipity, a gust of warm air from the furnace caressed his bare bottom, causing the hem of his frilly nightie to tickle his naked hips. He took a deep breath, lowered his eyes and whispered, “Please, Nana … I don’t want to be without clothes all of Christmas. I really do want to put on one of my new Christmas dresses. May I, please, Nana? Please?”

“Mmmm, we’ll see.” Mrs. Tully raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “I’ll tell you what, sweetheart. Let’s finish cleaning up in the kitchen and then you may pick something pretty to wear. Don’t be so eager! Christmas isn’t over yet. It’s barely just begun!”

The blushing boy nodded. “Yes Nana.”

“Good boy! Oh look! You’re standing under the mistletoe again!”

Samuel sighed. Mistletoe … again? That had been happening all morning and he was getting really tired of it. But like everything else that happened in the little house at the end of the lane, what choice did he have?

The flustered youngster braced himself; sure enough, his babysitter reached down and put her finger under his chin, prompting him to look her in the eye. He knew what was expected and he puckered his lips, leaving them slightly apart, just enough for her tongue to slip in between as she pressed her warm, sloppy mouth against his ….

They made a strange sight, the obese, demented “Mrs. Claus” bending over to kiss the plump, nearly naked little Christmas fairy. She held slid her hands behind his head and pressed his cherubic face into her own, mashing her fat mouth into his in a long, passionate, slobbery kiss. The young boy took a deep breath through his nose as her immense tongue forced its way past his lips and his teeth and filled his mouth. It was all he could do to keep from strangling under the perverse, overwhelming assault on his prepubescent senses.

“Mmmmm, that was nice,” the smug woman said as she finally pulled away and smacked her lips. “Mmmm yes … how Nana loves making kissy kisses with her pretty fairy princess. That is so lovely … and so much fun, isn’t it, princess?”

Samuel resisted the urge to wipe his babysitter’s slobber from his chapped lips. He did not want her to think he didn’t enjoy her affections; that would be bad. He started to speak, but before he could take a breath she plucked the dangling pacifier its place under his chin and placed it between his china perfect teeth.

“Uh-uh-uhhhh! You know Nana’s rules! Princess has to keep his binky in his mouthy wouthy or he gets a spanky spanky!”

The frustrated lad furiously sucked on the rubber nipple, his babysitter’s saliva dripping down his chin as she laughed at her little joke. He hated himself at that moment. He hated his grandmother and he hated being tricked into asking to do things that hated to do. It had taken all of his courage and the last of his dignity to act like a stupid sissy – “Pwease wet me twy on my pwetty sissy cwothes!” – only to be teased for wanting it all “a little too much.”

This was not turning out to be a very fun Christmas. Not fun at all.

***

It only took five minutes for Marlene and her mother and aunt to get ready. Each was equally motivated and eager to receive a visit from their mysterious next door neighbor. The two older women were almost as excited as their younger progeny, but not by much.

“This should be interesting,” Mrs. Miller mused as she adjusted her skirt and fluffed her hair. “We haven’t seen much of Mrs. Tully’s cute little grandson since Halloween.”

“If we’re lucky maybe we’ll get a look at his cute little tushie again,” Aunt Margaret quipped. “That’s what I’m after!”

“Jesus Christ! I can’t believe you said that,” the older sister said with a sniff. “You’re such a pervert!”

“Um-hmm. So what does that make you? You like looking at his little bum as much as I do, if not more!”

The two sisters grinned at each other, then burst out giggling, just as they’d done oh, so many times throughout the past several months.

Marlene was waiting patiently when the two women left the bedroom and arrived at the top of the stairs. They were taken aback by the youngster’s choice of clothing. The twelve year old’s typical holiday attire – Christmassy sweater, jeans and sneakers – was completely absent. Instead of the traditional juvenile look her elders expected, she showed up looking surprisingly mature in a crisp white blouse, a pair of dark blue dress slacks and a matching jacket. There was something else about her … something very … different ….

“You put your hair up!” Aunt Margaret exclaimed. “Marlene, you look … you look … very nice. Very nice, indeed!”

“I’ll say,” Mrs. Miller said. She felt a tearful tingle in her nose as she realized how grown up her daughter looked. “And is that … are … are you wearing make up?”

Marlene shrugged. “Just a little. A touch of lipstick and some mascara. I’m old enough, so I figured why not?”

The two women looked at each other. Aunt Margaret nodded. “Well, it makes you look very grown up. It really shows in your eyes. Goodness, girl, I’d have thought you were at least sixteen if I hadn’t known who you were.” She grinned and nudged her sister. “Who are you trying to impress, anyway? Not that old woman next door, I bet!”

A flush of color filled the youngster’s cheeks, but she took the comment with stride. “I just thought I’d try to look nice. It is Christmas Day, after all, isn’t it? And we are having company, aren’t we? This is how civilized people dress, is it not?”

Mrs. Miller grinned. “Well, I guess it is … civilized, I suppose. Do you feel civilized, sister dear?”

Aunt Margaret primped her hair and checked her blouse. “Mmm … I suddenly do feel civilized, now that you mention it. Now what do we do?”

The two sisters looked at Marlene, awaiting their orders.

“We really ought to get downstairs,” the woman-child suggested. She gave a sly grin, just a little one, then turned back to being serious. “In case the doorbell rings. It would be rude to keep Mrs. Tully and her … guest … waiting, don’t you think?”

Taken aback by the twelve year old girl’s sudden change in attitude, the two sisters grinned at each other and nodded in unison.

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Mrs. Miller. “Anything you say, daughter dear ….”

To be continued ….

(End of file)