Marlene and the Boy Next Door Part I
By David

Copyright 2009 by David, all rights reserved

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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 I

Marlene Miller ran home as fast as she could. It was Friday, her special day, and that darned Mrs. Haggard had kept her late after school. No matter that her favorite teacher was praising the seventh grader for her latest project, it was Friday afternoon and Marlene had somewhere very special to be! And now, at the very worst time, she was running late!

If I'm lucky maybe I won't miss it, the youngster said to herself as she ran down the street.

The flustered girl hurried past the neighborhood children as her house came into sight. She would have politely rebuffed offers to come visit and share snacks, but none came. Her shy nature and bookish disposition had prevented her from being one of "the popular girls." No matter. She didn't have room in her life for friends right then, anyway. She had to get home. She had a secret rendezvous and there was no time to waste!

Please, oh please! Let me be on time, she pleaded silently along the way.

The freckle-faced twelve year old allowed herself a slight smile as she continued her sprint toward home and her mysterious goal. Her breathing was raspy and her face burned with excitement. She wondered what everyone would think if they knew how - if she was fortunate - she would be spending the remainder of her special afternoon.

Marlene's house was the two-story Victorian near the end of the lane. The last house on the street was a humble little cottage with a lovely old fashioned flower garden owned by the most interesting old lady. A very interesting little old lady, indeed.

Marlene was thrilled as she saw that no car was parked out front of her neighbor's home. She prayed that she would be in place and on time. She crossed her fingers and made a final dash across the yard and toward the front door of her own house.

Rushing past her mother, she mumbled something about "Can't talk, gotta work onna project!" and within minutes she was upstairs sitting quietly, breathless and flushed at her desk. The young girl played with her thick, curly brown hair and fingered her art history book. Her real task, however, was standing watch outside the window that illuminated her desk.

From her position Marlene Miller had a prime view of her neighbor's quaint cottage. A large window on the west side of the little house gave anyone who was interested a prime view into the matronly parlor where the thing usually happened. Other windows allowed a partial peek into the kitchen and upstairs bedroom. If she leaned forward she could just barely see into the back yard and garden.

A sheer lace curtain over Marlene's bedroom window - her very own idea! - camouflaged the young girl from view. She'd even inspected it from outside to make sure she could watch in perfect safety and never be seen!

For the next fifteen minutes she stared out the window of her bedroom, occasionally and drumming her fingers on the desk with childlike impatience. She knew that at any minute her mother might call her to come down to talk. She prayed quietly for a delay. Not that she had anything against her mother. It was just that something wonderful was about to happen and she was loathe to miss it.

The youngster heard a car pull up out front and the next thing she knew, the front doorbell rang. This was followed by footsteps and a bright "I'll get it!"

A few seconds later a voice called up. "Marlene? Marlene, are you up there?"

Marlene felt ill. It was her mother's voice. Great. They probably had company and she was going to miss what was about to happen next door.

Why me? she said to herself with a sigh.

"Yes, Mother?" the twelve year old replied in her best "I'm busy" voice.

"Your Aunt Margaret is here. She wants to take us out to supper after while. Do you have much homework?"

Marlene thought for a moment. This might work out after all.

"I really need to stay home and study."

There was a long silence, followed by soft talking.

Marlene sighed. "At least, Mother. It might take longer."

There was some more soft talking, followed by - of all things - her Aunt Margaret giggling.

That's weird, Marlene thought. Then she smiled. Aunt Margaret was always up to something. She'd find out all about it later.

"I'm busy," she shouted.

Again, her mother called up with, "That's fine, sweetie. We'll be right here. You just stay up there until you're done and we'll go out then. All right?"

Marlene rolled her eyes. Her mom already said all that! Was the woman daft?

"That's fine. Later!"

Finally, the seventh grader grinned as she crossed her fingers. Alone at last! Maybe I won't miss it after all.

Marlene resumed her post watching the seemingly empty house across the way. Another fifteen minutes passed. Things weren't looking good.

Tired of staring out at the window, Marlene looked down at the pages of her book, her eyes lingering over images of famous European works of art. In the classroom she found them interesting, fascinating even. But not right then. Not in the privacy of her bedroom with her mother and her aunt downstairs and the clock ticking near half past four. Marlene's chest and face turned red as she thought about the living work of art that - if she was lucky - was about to appear before her very eyes.

Oh, my! I almost forgot the most important thing, she said to herself.

She opened her desk drawer and pulled out a pair of old army field glasses. They once belonged to her father, who went away to war many years ago and came home wrapped in a flag. The binoculars were in a duffle bag containing his personal belongings, tossed in a corner of the basement by her mother and long forgotten. Marlene found them while exploring and thought they would come in handy one day. She never thought that purpose would spying on her neighbor.

Can't do without these, she thought with a grin.

The body of the glasses was worn and scratched, but the optics were powerful and clear. Marlene put them to her eyes and smiled. She had done this many times and didn't even have to set the focus. The parlor suddenly appeared as clear and close as if she was in the room herself. She could even make out the lace pattern of the doilies decorating the ancient sofa.

I wish I could be sitting on that sofa when it happens, she thought. Her cheeks reddened and she couldn't help but giggle.

The next few minutes were excruciating. Marlene tried in vain to study, but she was distracted by voices and laughter downstairs and the lack of activity outside her window. She stared at the binoculars on her desk and then at the clock. It was a quarter until five.

Oh, well, the young girl lamented. Maybe next Friday.

And then it happened. She heard a car pull into the driveway next door. The car door slammed and the clik-clak of high heels along the sidewalk, followed by a whining, whimpering noise. With her window open Marlene could hear the front door of her neighbor's house open followed by a shrill, guttural "Oh, there's my precious Samuel! We are going to have such a good time, baby doll! Nana is so glad to see you!"

With a flushed face and an impish smile curling her lips, Marlene Miller picked up the field glasses and watched as her favorite thing in the whole wide world unfolded before her bright, shining eyes.

* * *

Twelve year old Samuel Oliver stood nervously before his grandmother, his mouth dry and his eyes wet. It was not a good day. It was never a good day in his grandmother's house. His mother had just left and now he was standing in front of the woman he was supposed to call "Nana." He hung his head. He knew from previous visits that he would not have much fun for the next two days.

Standing over him was a huge woman with a bulldog face made even more disturbing by a bright, mischievous smile. Irma Tully was not Samuel's true grandmother, but she was the closest thing to it. Stout and matronly, she was tall, powerful and big bosomed in her tent-like flower print dress. Samuel tried not to stare at her breasts, which were ponderous and intimidating. He wondered how much they weighed, grimaced, and then tried to put the thought out of his mind.

In addition to acting as a grandmother, Irma Tully was also the Oliver's fairy godmother when it came time for childcare and babysitting. Mrs. Oliver traveled frequently for her job and for please. As she and her adolescent son were having "issues" - mostly having to do with his sneaky attitude and behavior - she did not like leaving him at home for extended periods of time. And so, for the past several weeks Samuel spent each and every Friday, Saturday and Sunday in the humble cottage with the ornamental flower garden, a place the young boy had come to regard with the same dread as a soldier might think of a prisoner of war camp.

Samuel blinked, causing a tear to trickle down his face. His grandmother smiled down at him and he saw the evil that always twinkled in her eye just before something bad was about to happen.

"First things first, of course." The large woman sat down on the edge of her sofa and held out her arms. "Come give Nana a great big hug. Then let's get you into something more comfortable."

Samuel sighed. He knew what that "something more comfortable" was and he was in no hurry to change his clothes.

The twelve year old reluctantly stepped forward. He felt a cold chill as he allowed this huge woman to embrace him, burying his face in her ample bosom and smothering him with the flowery smell of perfume and talcum powder. The fragrance triggered the horrible memory of past events and Samuel was suddenly hit with weakened knees and the panicked need to pee.

Irma Tully released the youngster. She then reached out, caressed his cheek and ran her fingers through his silky blond hair. Samuel's hair had soft curls trimmed pageboy-style forming bangs that just brushed his eyelashes and a long back touching his shoulders. The overall effect perfectly framed his fair, delicate features. His deep blue eyes were sad and droopy and shined with tears.

The large woman smiled. She was pleased to have this pretty, doll-like boy in her possession and she intended to make the most of every second she had with him.

"Let's get you undressed, first, baby doll," she said in a sing-song voice. "Then we can clean you up a little, do some chores and maybe have us some fun together."

Samuel took a deep breath, held it for a second and then released it. I hate it when she calls me "baby doll," he thought in frustration.

"Do we have to?" he said, his voice soft and submissive. "I mean, can't I just keep them on? My clothes, I mean?"

The boy sighed. Why can't she talk to me like I'm grown up, he said to himself. It's like I'm five years old!

The huge woman beamed as she pulled him close. "Oh, no, baby doll. We can't do that! I know you're a good boy. But you know Nana's rules. She has to make sure her little boy is clean and well-behaved. Those are Nana's rules, remember?"

The sullen boy nodded. He felt sick. He wanted to run away, but he didn't dare. Instead, he stood stock still as the old woman's nimble fingers undid his shirt, pulling it briskly from inside his pants and over his head.

The next thing he knew his upper body was completely naked and exposed to her view. He was a shy boy and didn't like taking off his shirt in front of the other boys at school, much less in front of weird old ladies. Even at home he only undressed in the bathroom. He wouldn't let his own

mother see him naked ... well, except for that one time...

Samuel felt so helpless as his grandmother looked him over, lightly touching his shoulders, his underarms and his nipples. He shivered as a curious finger poked his belly button, the sharp nail touching a sensitive nerve that set his whole body trembling.

"Such a pretty boy," the old woman said warmly. "You are just like a little baby doll. Nana could just eat you up!"

Why does she have to talk to me like that? the half-naked boy thought. I am not a baby doll! This is so stupid!

Samuel closed his eyes and wished he was a million miles away. His belt suddenly let go and the front of his trousers fell open. A rush of cool summer air around his bare legs let him know that things were getting serious.

"Nana heard from a little birdie that her little baby doll was naughty again this week." Mrs. Tully sang the words as though she was auditioning for a church musical. "Nana heard that her little baby doll was caught doing dirty things. Didn't we have a talk about not being a dirty little boy?"

The half-naked boy nodded nervously. The "little birdie," of course, was his mother. Why couldn't she just say that?

"Your mother is very upset with you, baby doll. She just wants the best for you and she worries about you all the time. But don't you worry your pretty little head. You're with Nana now, and she's going to make everything all better!"

Like a zombie under the spell of a powerful witch - a description Samuel often applied toward the huge woman that hovered over him - the helpless boy stepped out of his shoes and the khaki trousers that pooled at his feet. Then came his socks. The hardwood floor fell cool under his bare feet.

Mrs. Tully picked up his discarded clothes, folded them neatly and put them on the sofa beside her. They could have just as well been a million miles away.

"Now, let us get rid of these nasty old whitey-tighties," the old woman said cheerfully. "You poor thing. I just don't know why little boys wear such ugly, uncomfortable undies when there are so many healthier ways to go."

Samuel shuddered with dread as powerful fingers slid under the elastic band holding up the pale white briefs that protected his prepubescent masculinity.

I can't believe this is happening to me ... again, he thought.

"Please, Nana, don't take them off."

"Is my little boy embarrassed'' she said, momentarily stopping the descent that would bare his privates to her.

The bashful boy passively shook his head yes.

Mrs. tugged the white briefs down his hips, just far enough to expose Samuel's bare bottom. A second tug allowed the child's privates to pop up over the elastic.

"Well, look at what I see!" she said with a pleasant chuckle. "Don't make an ugly face, baby doll. It's just your little wee-wee!"

"Please, Nana, don't..." the trembling boy sobbed.

The old woman then pulled the underpants down about his knees, released the waistband, leaving him awkwardly exposed and subject to her mischievous gaze. She then put her huge, claw-like hands around his bare waist, her rough fingertips tickling the soft, baby-like skin. It never ceased to amuse her how such a rowdy, rough and tumble boy would wilt and pout so quickly in the face of losing his precious undies.

Samuel was about to die of embarrassment. It took all he could not to reach down and pull up his underwear. That, he knew, would have been a serious mistake.

The old woman clucked her tongue and laughed. "Oh, really, baby doll, as many times as I've seen your bare bottom, I cannot believe how shy you still are!"

"I hate it when you make me like this!" the twelve year old fumed. "I hate going with no pants!"

"Oh, nonsense," Irma Tully replied, giving his belly a little tickle. "Remember, you are just a little boy and I'm your grandmother. That's just like your mother. Children your age have no reason to be modest around their grandmothers or mothers. How else can we take care of our little boys and make sure you they are healthy?"

She smiled at the sight of the blushing boy's vulnerable state. Samuel closed his eyes, afraid to say anything for fear of bursting into tears.

"You are so silly," she said with a gentle smile.

She then gave him a playful, grandmotherly pinch on his naked butt, triggering a nervous involuntary giggle from the humiliated twelve year old. "See, it's not so bad. You know my rules, baby doll. Nana has to wash your dirty clothes and put them away until it's time to go home. They have no place in my house and that's just the way it is!"

The shamed child blinked back a fresh trickle of tears. Not knowing what else to do, he bit his lip and nodded. "Yes, Nana."

"Now let us get rid of these nasty things and have us some fun."

Irma Tully resumed sliding his briefs down his legs, past his calves and down around his ankles. Samuel tried stepping out of them only to get his feet entangled in the elastic band. He sighed and stared at the floor. He felt so stupid as he struggled with the flimsy whitey-tighties. It was like they were designed to prevent him from running away and escaping.

"There's Nana's pretty little boy," she said, taking the underpants and adding them to the stack of clothes on the sofa. "Now, isn't that better? You're such a lovely child. Nana loves just looking at her baby doll, you know."

The old woman chuckled as she reached out and tickled him under the tip of his small, uncircumcised penis. Samuel's hands went to cover his privates, but she quickly slapped his hands away.

"Now, don't you do that, baby doll," she said. "Nana has told you before that it is bad for little boys to touch themselves down there. That's what got you in trouble in the first place. Touching leads to bad things that little boys don't quite understand. That is what grandmothers are for."

Samuel shut his eyes tightly as she repositioned his hands to his side, totally naked in front of her now.

"See, baby doll? Isn't that so much better?" she said in a much lighter tone. "You have nothing to be shy about. Just your little wee-wee."

He cringed as she reached out and touched his penis again. Jiggling it like she was playing a tickle game, thinking nothing of it. The touch of her fingers on him made him feel strange. A strange he couldn't identify. The sensation would have been pleasant under any other circumstances. But not today.

Not like this, he thought sadly.

"Now, stand still and let Nana do a quick inspection. It won't take just a minute."

Samuel squirmed as his grandmother ran her hands over his body, beginning with his soft blond curls, down his slender neck and over his naked shoulders. She spun him around and examined his bare back, caressing the curve of his spine and then turned him around again and rubbed his bare belly. Her deft fingers soon found the bare skin between his legs and his naked bottom.

Samuel Oliver hated his body. He had no pubic hair as yet, his body was smooth and soft. The other boys said he looked like a baby. Those that didn't said he looked more like a girl. He hated being called those names, but even he had to admit that there was more than a little truth in them. The way his mother made him cut his hair didn't help. About the only people who like his feminine haircut were girls and old ladies.

The touch of his grandmother's warm hand suddenly cupping his naked privates woke him from his reverie.

"It's hard to believe these little things can cause so much trouble for such a pretty boy," the smiling woman said.

No matter how many times this happened, Samuel always cringed and turned red from embarrassment. He tried not to listen as his grandmother commented to herself on what a healthy pink it looked or that his mother had not been keeping him clean, which his mother never did. She took his smooth, tight little sack between her fingers, rolling and separating the little balls of flesh inside the tight smooth skin. It was such a humiliating process and he cried, just like always, which had no effect on his grandmother. She just smiled and carried on with her inspection.

"Nana ...!" Samuel tried to pull away, but a firm hand pressed against the small of his back, preventing escape.

Mrs. Tully then turned her attention to Samuel's penis, holding the delicate mushroom-shaped tip between forefinger and thumb and tracing the soft velvety flesh with a bright red fingernail. Samuel closed his eyes as the cruel-looking fingernail probed the slit at the tip of his penis and forced it open. A wave of tremors swept all over his naked body.

"Uh-oh, your little pink pearl isn't very clean, baby doll. It looks like someone has been doing something naughty! Nana is not very happy with you. Not happy with you at all."

The probing stopped and Samuel opened his eyes. His face burned with shame as he was caught looking into his grandmother's stern gaze. She didn't say another word, but he could tell she knew exactly what he had done. It was like she knew everything about him, including his darkest secrets.

How is that possible? he silently asked himself. Scared and ashamed, he closed his eyes once more. Maybe she really is a witch!

The old woman then had him turn. As much as he hated his boyish privates getting "inspected," this next part defied description. He was directed to bend over and grab his knees. Rough, warm hands grabbed his bare bottom and spread each plump little cheek apart, bringing cool air and a studious gaze to what his grandmother called his "little rosebud."

"The good news is that you're keeping your little rosebud clean," the old woman commented. "Good boy. Nana won't have to wash it until you're ready for bed. Of course, we'll have to take care of your little pearl, too. But don't you worry, baby doll, Nana knows just what to do."

The tearful boy felt so helpless, so vulnerable as his tormentor poked and pinched and prodded his most intimate parts. It was the stuff that filled his dreams with nightmares. He imagined this might be like what happened when a soldier was captured by the enemy and was interrogated for information. Or a superhero was defeated by his archenemy and the entire world watched and laughed.

Maybe not, Samuel thought. I think maybe this has got to be a lot, lot worse!

* * *

Marlene Miller could not have been happier! Watching through her father's binoculars, the squirming twelve year old was caught in raptured silence as Mrs. Tully finished her inspection of the naked Samuel Oliver. She could not take her eyes off the spectacle before her. She'd seen this happen before - more than a few times, in fact - but it never failed to capture her imagination.

Flustered and excited, Marlene closed her eyes for just an instant and wondered what it would be like to hold such power over a real live boy. She was normally bashful around boys her own age, especially in the last year or so. They were so loud and intimidating and their rude behavior made her even more nervous and shy than she tended to be.

But this spectacle roused her curiosity and she pictured herself holding Samuel's little penis in her hand. She imagined the helpless expression on his girlish face and the pitiful look in his deep blue eyes. Nothing about this scenario intimidated her. In fact, she felt quite empowered at the very thought of being in control of a helpless, naked school boy.

She suddenly felt her own face flushed with excitement. This must be a very good thing, she thought. It has to be a good thing! Mrs. Tully is the luckiest woman in the entire world!

Marlene turned her attention back to the window just in time to see the jolly old woman carefully gather up each item of Samuel Oliver's attire, place them atop his shoes and leave the room with them in her hands. The look on the naked boy's face was a combination of frustration and compliance. He was trapped and had nowhere to go. The young girl watched in amazement as he suddenly broke out in tears and began crying like a little baby.

Marlene Miller put down the binoculars and tried to catch her breath. She had hardly taken a breath since the blond boy had arrived. The image of him standing in the middle of that old fashioned parlor, helpless and nude, was the most fascinating thing she'd ever seen in her life! She'd seen much of this before, but it never failed to capture her imagination. If things kept going as she imagined, she might very well pass out from asphyxia.

The sound of Mrs. Tully walking around the house was interspersed by the soft sobbing of the naked boy in the parlor. Marlene smiled as she closed her eyes and listened to the pitiful whimpering and memorized every sound made by the crying boy.

This is even better than I remember it, the preteen girl said to herself. She stifled a giggle by putting her hand over her mouth. Who needs stupid girlfriends or even television, for that matter?!

This is the best thing in the whole wide world!!!!

It would be a long time before the old woman returned. Marlene loved this part of the ritual. From her position she could see Mrs. Tully through the kitchen window, puttering around the stove with a teapot, looking through her pantry and rummaging through her refrigerator. All alone in the parlor, an unclothed Samuel Oliver stood tearful, impatient and fidgeting.

For Marlene Miller, nothing could have been better.

* * *

This was not, of course, Marlene's first experience in voyeurism. It was happenstance that one evening nearly two months before that she studying at that very same desk and looked up in response to a flurry of yelling and screaming next door. She peered through the curtain to see kindly old Mrs. Tully pull a reluctant boy named Samuel Oliver over her lap, yank down his pants and give him a bare-handed paddling. To the young girl's surprise and delight, the crying boy was then stood in the corner of the room - pants still tangled around his ankles - where he remained in full view for nearly an hour.

This chance incident simultaneously shocked and intrigued Marlene. Up until that time she was only vaguely aware that Mrs. Tully had a grandson, paying him little attention as he appeared only sporadically on various weekends.

Over the days that followed Marlene became a "nosey neighbor." She was fascinated to notice a routine in the Tully household that involved Samuel arriving, being handed off to his "grandmother," and almost immediately receiving sound and obviously painful spankings on his bare bottom. Each spanking was always and immediately followed by extended sessions standing half naked in the corner.

One afternoon Marlene - who was by then regularly staking out the Tully home from her position at her desk - witnessed an obviously angry and frustrated Mrs. Oliver deliver young Samuel to his grandmother.

"Don't leave me with her, Mom!" the tearful youth yelled. "I'll run away if you do! I'll run away and find my dad!"

"You'll do no such thing, Samuel Oliver," Mrs. Tully said in a firm but loving voice. "Nana has ways of making young boys behave properly."

The old woman took on the situation in her typical grandmotherly manner, calming the young mother and taking firm but loving control over the defiant boy. Wise counsel quieted jangled nerves and soon Mrs. Oliver got into her car and left.

And that was when Marlene Miller saw her first totally naked boy.

Marlene watched in shock and awe as Mrs. Tully began undressing her grandson, talking low and soft as though to put him off his guard. The young girl thought for sure that old woman would close her curtains, but that never happened. Instead there, in plain view of the seventh grade girl's gleaming eyes, off came the quiet boy's shirt and then his t-shirt. And then off came the shoes and socks! Then came the pants! And finally, the holy grail ... off came those silly "whitey-tighties"!

Marlene Miller could not believe her eyes! For the very first time in her entire life she was given a full and uninterrupted view of a naked boy from head to toe. She marveled at the curves of his bare belly and his slender back, the plump, feminine bottom and - to her absolute joy! - the small, puppy dog tail-like penis. She was so delighted, so overcome with excitement by what she saw, she almost ruined everything by squealing aloud with laughter.

Terrified that she'd ruined everything - and maybe a little bit concerned that she might get into trouble for spying on her neighbor's business! - Marlene dropped behind her desk and bit her lip in an attempt to keep quiet.

After several minutes she couldn't stand it any longer. Remembering that the Miller's upstairs bathroom had a window, she raced out of the bedroom and down the hall in hopes that she had not given away her presence. Unfortunately, that window was no good. It was the wrong angle. She did note, however, that it allowed an excellent view into Mrs. Tully's upstairs bedroom.

That information might come in handy later, she thought.

Afraid of going back to her desk and getting caught, the young girl thought out the situation. Of course! Her mother's dining room was directly below her bedroom. And with their house sitting a little taller than Mrs. Tully's, it just might work...

Arriving downstairs, Marlene carefully approached the dining room window, her fingers crossed, her step light and on tip-toe. Mrs. Miller had put lace curtains up to give some privacy on the ground level, which the young girl found encouraging. Stealthily, she moved her head closer to the edge of the window and with one eye only, she took a quick look.

Bingo!

Through the dining room window and across the small strip of grass separating the Miller and Tully homes, just a dozen or so yards away, she could see a naked Samuel Oliver still standing before his stern, yet loving grandmother, apparently getting the scolding of a lifetime.

"You have been a bad boy, Samuel, and your mother is very upset with you. Running away is bad, and that is why Nana is putting away your clothes. You can still run away if you like. Go ahead and try it. I dare you! I'd love to see how far my pretty baby doll gets wearing nothing but your birthday suit!"

"Please give me back my clothes!" the tearful boy cried. "I didn't mean it! I won't run off! I promise!"

For an instant Marlene was afraid Mrs. Tully would give in. But then she realized that something remarkable was about to happen.

"I know you didn't mean it, baby doll, but you've got to learn your lesson. You're going to stay like this until your mommy comes back for you."

"But that won't be until Sunday!" the bawling boy cried.

"I can't go naked all the time," the twelve year old boy insisted. "I don't like it! What happens if somebody sees me?"

"You just let Nana worry about that, baby doll. In the meantime, Nana is going to give you a spanking, then we're going to have a bath and then you'll go to bed early. No supper for little boys who upset their mothers ..."

Samuel looked defeated. "Bedtime? But it's not even dark yet. Nana, please, don't do this to me..."

Concealed in her improvised hiding place, the young girl put both hands over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

I can't believe it! she said to herself in sheer pleasure. This is better than TV! This is better than school! This is better than that vacation we took last summer!

This is the best thing in the whole wide world!

After a few more minutes of scolding, Mrs. Tully pulled the tearful boy over her lap and laid into him with the most frightening, brutal spanking Marlene had ever seen in her life. With her weathered, upturn hand she repeatedly slapped Samuel's plump, baby-like bottom with a ferociousness and brutality that stunned Marlene Miller's concept of the kindly old lady who lived next door.

Whap! Slap! Smack!

Each blow was delivered with determination, power and a lecture. The timing was long and arduous, the space in between each hit giving the boy more than enough time to absorb and feel the burning pain before renewing it with a subsequent slap after slap after slap.

Marlene couldn't recall ever being spanked herself. She had seen boys all her life get spanked - mostly Samuel - and then walk away as though little or nothing had happened. This particular spanking, however, was like nothing she'd ever seen before. It was much more methodical and ritualized than the ones she'd seen Samuel get before. It was also the most effective. Within the first five licks he was crying out like a little child. The next five had him screaming bloody murder. Five, ten, fifteen more sent him through hysteria, begging forgiveness and finally whimpering pity.

"No, Nana, please!!! Please stop it! Oh, please, oh, please, oh, please, stop it!!!"

Wow, the young girl thought. I wonder if it really hurts that much?

While Mrs. Tully consoled the sobbing boy in her arms, Marlene had a thought. Looking over her shoulder to make certain she was alone, the girl with the curly brown hair pulled the hem of her skirt up, exposing a pale, plump thigh and a pair of white cotton panties. She considered her bare leg for a moment and then raised her hand. She paused, and then raised it a little higher. SMACK!!! She slapped the smooth naked skin as hard as she could, mimicking the same intensity she'd seen Mrs. Tully demonstrate only moments before.

A sharp burning sensation shot through her leg and then her entire body like a bolt of electricity. She almost cried out, but guilt and fear of discovery caused her to grimace in pain and keep silent. Tears welled in her eyes as she fought to keep from crying.

OWWW!!! That hurt a lot more than I thought it would, the rueful girl thought. I'm not doing that any more!

As she contemplated the red hand print that slowly formed on her inflamed thigh, Marlene thought about Samuel Oliver and his grandmother. She almost felt sorry for the naked boy. Except for one thing. She was in love with what Mrs. Tully had done to him. From undressing him to scolding him to spanking him until he was a quivering mass of tears, it was the most wonderful thing she had seen in her life!

Yes, dear reader, twelve year old Marlene Miller was hooked. She had seen into Mrs. Tully's parlor window and into her own mind. And own her life would never quite be the same.

* * *

Samuel Oliver was not exactly what you would call a handsome boy. Oh, he was attractive all right, but not at all in the traditional masculine sense. Not like the other boys Marlene knew at her school. The first word that came to her mind that described Samuel was "pretty." Especially his face. From his silky flaxen curls to the small, perfect nose, the cupid's bow lips and peaches and cream complexion, his looks were more girlish than the girl next door.

Even Marlene Miller agreed. She wrinkled her freckled nose and clucked her tongue as she shifted her position behind the old field glasses.

It's not fair, she fumed silently. He's prettier than me! He's prettier than most of the girls in my class! That's just not fair!

Samuel's feminine beauty didn't stop with his face. Puberty had not yet set in and he still had the baby fat and smooth skin of a much younger child. Marlene scanned the naked boy's curvy body and made another ugly face. He's got prettier hair than me! He's got prettier legs than me. He's got a prettier belly than me. He's even got a prettier butt than me! Shoot! I think he's even got prettier boobies than me!

It's not fair!

It wasn't just his butt and breasts that Marlene found most interesting, of course. She moved the lens of her father's field glasses across Samuel's naked hips and locked in on his privates. The high grade optic brought the image so close she was tempted to reach out and touch it. Licking her lips, she marveled at the smooth, hairless skin between his thighs and the ugly-but-cute penis and the curious little bag of skin that occupied such an unlikely place.

Thank goodness I don't have any of those things, she thought, giggling.

Samuel's penis, which Marlene estimated to be about the size of an adult man's index finger, was sticking out somewhat, at about a forty-five degree angle downward. She'd seen it in so many positions over the past few weeks. Sometimes it was shrunken and withdrawn and almost as small as his belly button. Other times it was stiff and erect and practically vertical. And sometimes it just hung limp and drooping, like it was sleeping. Regardless of its position, the bewildered boy didn't seem to have any control over it at all. It was as though the thing had a mind of its own!

As if that wasn't bad enough, beneath that was the curious, peach-like bag that contained his testicles. She'd looked that up in one of her mother's medical books. The sac, as they called it, seemed to change shape almost as much as his penis, depending on the time of day and the situation in which Marlene happened to see it. Sometimes it would shrivel up like a prune, sometimes it looked like a fuzzy little peach, other times it was hidden between the naked boy's chubby thighs.

No wonder boys are so weird, she said to herself. She thought about her own privates and how simple and uncomplicated they were. She shook her head and sighed. How do they live with all that stuff between their legs?

Locking her binoculars in on her favorite part of Samuel's penis, the tip - or as the book said, the glans - Marlene stared at the very thing she had memorized over hours and hours of discrete observation. Pink and shiny and with a little slit at the end, it reminded her of one of those dancing mushrooms in an animated movie.

Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine what Samuel's penis would feel like to the touch. She pondered whether it would be rough and hard or soft and tender. She suspected soft and tender. It looked fairly delicate, especially the shiny pink pearl. She wondered what would happen if she pinched it, not too hard, but just enough to make Samuel cry.

I've got to figure out a way to be part of all this, she pondered. So close, yet so far away...

She bit her lip to keep from screaming with happiness.

This is the best thing in the whole wide world!

* * *

Samuel was tired of standing. It had been quite a long time since Nana had left him in the middle of her parlor, stark naked and exposed to the world to see. He didn't have a watch. He didn't have anything. Nothing but his "birthday suit" as Nana called his nakedness. He shivered as the word echoed in his mind.

My birthday suit, he thought. Ugh! What a stupid name!

Samuel dreaded what might happen when his grandmother returned, but anything would be better than this tedious waiting in such a vulnerable state. He glanced at the open windows around him and shivered. He could hear children down the street playing and thought about his friends back home. He longed to be with them, away from all this misery and embarrassment.

Samuel shot another look at the windows. One faced his grandmother's flower garden, the other faced the Miller's home next door. He studied the closed curtains on the other house, just as he'd done so many times before.

Whew! It's bad enough Old Lady Tully is always looking at me. At least nobody else can see me!

Swaying left to right in boredom and nervous frustration, Samuel thought about how happy his mother acted each time she handed him off to his new "grandmother." He begged her not to leave him with this awful woman, but his words always fell on deaf ears. His mother seemed to know what went on in Nana's house and despite his desperation, she wholeheartedly approved.

"I don't want to hear anymore whining!" Mrs. Oliver scolded him on the drive across town. "And I will not have you ruining my weekend! You're going to learn discipline and respect if it's the last thing I do! Don't make me send you to live with your father!"

"But, Mom, she's always spanking me on my bare butt and stuff! Sometimes she makes me sit in the corner with no clothes on!"

"Samuel, she's just a nice old lady who does things the old-fashioned way, that's all. You misbehave, you get what you deserve. She takes your clothes away because you threatened to run away. What else is she supposed to do? I don't care if she makes you run around in your birthday suit all weekend! That's your problem, not mine!"

"But, Mom," the crying boy fumed. "I don't like being naked!"

"From what I'd seen, I think you do!" Mrs. Oliver gave him the shut-your-mouth-before-I-shut-it-for-you look. "Remember, I know what you've been doing in the bathroom all by yourself. I've seen you in there, naked and playing with yourself like a little pervert! So don't be telling me what you don't like! You brought all this on yourself, little mister. I really don't care what she does to you! I do know one thing, though. You better do whatever she says or there will be hell to pay when I get back!"

Standing exposed and ashamed in his grandmother's parlor, Samuel thought about his mother and his nose tingled just like it always did before he cried. If only he'd locked the bathroom door that one time. If only she hadn't caught him standing in front of the mirror, examining himself and trying to figure out why his body was acting so strange. If only she hadn't seen him holding his ... it ... in his hand. If only it hadn't started acting like it had a mind of its own...

He wiped a fresh tear from his cheek and then wiped that on his bare thigh.

He knew what was in store for him as he'd been through it before many, many times. But something told him that this time would be different. Different and most likely much, much worse. He didn't know exactly how he knew it, but he knew it nonetheless.

* * *

Marlene Miller was so excited, she had to concentrate to keep from peeing. Locked in position at her desk, she could not take her eyes off the naked boy just a few yards away. She had spent literally hours spying on him in the past, but today was special. Just now, right as she was watching him with her father's binoculars, Samuel had turned and looked directly at her! For a split second she thought she had been discovered, but he showed no sign of alarm. Then she remembered the sheer lace curtain that concealed her position. She was safe!

Steeling herself, Marlene looked through the field glasses and kept her gaze on Samuel's face, focusing in on his eyes. They were deep blue and shiny. Very pretty, almost as pretty as a girl's. Judging from his forlorn expression, she realized the shine probably came from tears. For some reason that didn't bother her. Not in the least. In fact, that actually kind of excited her.

I bet I could make him cry, she thought with a smile.

Marlene's face suddenly got hot as she realized what she was thinking. The blushing girl giggled. She was normally bashful around boys, especially good looking ones. She thought about the boys at school and how they all made her feel stupid and ugly. Then she thought about Mrs. Tully and the power she held over Samuel Oliver.

I don't ever want to be afraid of anything, she told herself. I want to be like that!

Turning her attention to the rear of the house, Marlene could see Mrs. Tully put away her cup of tea and head toward the parlor. The youngster glanced at her watch. It had been nearly twenty minutes since Samuel was left naked and alone in the parlor, the very idea of which excited her like nothing she'd ever experienced before.

Taking a deep breath, Marlene closed her eyes. She imagined being forced to stand totally naked in the middle of an unfamiliar house, trapped by an evil old witch or maybe even a sorceress in a dark and twisted fairy tale of sorts. She thought about the length of time, the sounds of the neighborhood children outside playing and the eccentric old woman who held such power over her. In her mind there was someone, a boy perhaps, spying on her as she stood naked and exposed and waiting to be punished for her sins.

Marlene's neck and face were suddenly flushed with excitement and a tingling swept over her body.

I can't believe it, she thought incredulously. That's the most amazing feeling in the world!

Putting the field glasses back up to her eyes, she clucked her tongue.

I can't believe it, she repeated to herself. I'm ... I'm almost jealous!

* * *

"Now, Nana has to give you your warning spanking," the old woman said warmly, reaching out and pulling Samuel close.

"But, Nana, I haven't done anything, you know ... naughty," the naked boy said, hoping she would understand his childish logic.

Samuel knew from previous visits that this would happen. The embarrassment he was about to experience would be just the beginning of many during his stay. So he stood naked and trembling, caught between the large frame of his grandmother sitting on the sofa and the open window with the warmth and smells of early spring and the sound of other kids playing in the distance.

Samuel felt tears well up in his eyes as a warm summer breeze touched his bare skin, the end of the curtain brushing against his plump bottom. As he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand he thought he saw his grandmother pick something up from the end table.

Then he saw the hairbrush in her hands. He thought that was odd. She never brushed his hair before spanking him. That always happened afterward, usually after his bath. He hoped for a reprieve, but something told him that the appearance of the brush was more sinister than he suspected.

His grandmother began to pull him forward and drape him over her ample lap. He felt the warmth of her thighs and the smooth fabric of her dress against his tummy, privates, and bare thighs as she placed her left hand on the smooth curve his upper back, and caressed his round, bare bottom with her right hand in a loving, grandmotherly fashion.

"Please, Nana, don't spank me. Please, I'll be good and do everything you tell me. Honest!"

"I know you will, baby doll, but you know you have to have a warning spanking to make sure."

With that she raised the hairbrush above her head and then brought it down on his bare bottom with a sudden dull smack that sounded as bad as it felt.

Samuel squealed suddenly and painfully, scaring even himself. He brushed his long blond locks from his eyes and thought to himself, she hit me with that hairbrush! That really hurt! This isn't the way it's supposed to...

WHAP!

The next spank stung the soft flesh even more and made him kick out his legs in surprise.

That really hurt! he thought desperately. That hurt more than it ever did before!

Oh, gosh, it's that stupid brush!

"Ow! Nana, that hurts! Please, stop it!"

But she didn't. Instead, Irma Tully slowly and deliberately rained blow after blow on the chubby white flesh, the hard flat hairbrush inflicting merciless pain with each touch of the skin.

Whap!

"Ow, please, no, Nana! Stop it! Please, stop it!"

Thap!

"Agh, Nana, no! Stop it! Please, oh please, stop it!"

Smack!

By the tenth spank his face was wet with tears and snot and his bottom was burning like it was literally on fire.

"No, Nana, please! Stop it! Oh, please stop it! It hurts!"

She gave him ten more. By that time Samuel's poor bottom was flaming and he was hysterical with pain. Another ten and he fell limp and sobbing across his grandmother's wide lap.

"There, there, baby doll, Nana is through. You are going to be a good little boy while you are here and do everything Nana says so Nana won't have to spank you again, aren't you?"

Face down toward the floor, Samuel nodded, barely able to do much more than cry and struggle for air. He would do anything to keep from going through that again. No matter how dreadful or humiliating it might be, anything was better than getting a beating by that ugly old woman!

Irma Tully kept the sobbing boy draped over her lap to comfort him. She reached over to the end table and put down the warm hairbrush. She then picked up a jar of cold cream, opened it, and applied it to his red bottom. He jerked as the coolness of the cold cream touch his hot skin.

Samuel dreaded this part as much as the spanking. Almost. He couldn't believe this old woman was rubbing ointment into his naked backside. It wasn't too bad, except for whenever her fingertips slipped down between the reddened cheeks. He automatically clenched his muscles tight and in turn received another sharp slap.

"Don't do that, baby doll. Nana has to put on your medicine so you'll feel better."

The mortified boy reluctantly relaxed his bottom and allowed her to do as she pleased. He continued to sob as she took her time applying the cream deep between his butt cheeks in a careful, maternal fashion. He couldn't help squirming as her fingers touched him in places no one else ever did.

"See, that feels good, doesn't it? Nana knows what little boys like."

Samuel gasped as a probing finger pressed against his helpless rosebud and penetrated its defenses. This was not the first time this had happened to him. It nonetheless took his breath away and sent a strange thrill over his body. The inquisitive digit worked its way deep inside his bottom, as though it was alive and curious and actually looking for something. He knew he wasn't supposed to like it - he actually did hate it, in fact - but he has to admit it was less awful than the beating he'd just experienced.

"Open up," the old woman commanded. "Don't make Nana get out her brush again! Let Nana do her job!"

The naked boy sighed and struggled to open his bottom hole as best he could. The rude finger became even more intrusive in its probing, sending conflicting shockwaves of shame and pleasure and confusion and a million other feelings to his muddled brain.

"Such a good boy, such a pretty boy," sang his grandmother in a warm, maternal manner. "Nana takes good care of her pretty little baby doll."

Samuel lost track of the time as his bottom was explored and massaged. It seemed to go on forever. He found himself in a curious stupor, relaxed and submissive. At this point he was putty in his grandmother's hands and would do just about anything she told him.

"All right," Mrs. Tully suddenly announced, waking the dazed boy from his trance. "That does it for now. Maybe if you're a good boy Nana will do that again later."

Suddenly standing him up, she put away the ointment and used her hand to fan dry his freshly anointed bottom. Samuel was appalled to see that his penis was erect. He wanted to cover himself but he knew that would only cause problems.

"There, now doesn't that feel better?" she asked as she wiped her hands clean with a tissue.

She then offered him a tissue. Wiping the tears and snot from his face, Samuel nodded more from habit than conviction.

"Yes, Nana," he replied shyly.

Irma Tully was quiet for a moment. Samuel looked down in horror. She was staring at his erection!

Why does it do that? He wondered sadly. That stupid thing is always getting me in trouble. Sometimes I wish I didn't have it!

The old woman laughed at the look of horror on her grandson's face. To her this a little game that went on in concert with their routine weekend. At the moment he was losing and she was winning. She always won, of course. That was all part of the rules.

"That's my baby doll." The large woman tickled him under the tip of his erect penis and laughed. "Like I said, Nana knows what little boys like."

She picked up the hairbrush and smiled as the youngster flinched. With a smile she pulled him close and began brushing his silky blond hair.

"Such a good boy. Such a pretty boy. We are going to have a wonderful time this weekend. Just Nana and her pretty little baby doll."

* * *

In the house next door, Marlene was ecstatic! This was the best Friday yet!

Wow, she said to herself. I can't believe what I just saw! This is the best secret in the world! I don't want it to ever end!

She licked her lips as Mrs. Tully brushed Samuel's blond locks over and over again with the same brush used just moments before to blister his bare bottom. The twelve year old boy was quiet and complacent, not at all acting like most boys might if an old lady was brushing their hair.

Marlene grinned. She'd never known a hairbrush was so versatile in handling boys. First his bare bottom and now the hair on his head. How clever!

The girl at the window wondered what Samuel's hair felt like. Through the binoculars it looked to be silky smooth, soft and delicate, not at all like her thick, coarse curls.

He'd make a perfect girl if it wasn't for that stupid stuff between his legs, she said to herself. I wonder what he'd look like in a dress?

She had an evil thought. With that blond hair and that pouty look on his face, I bet he'd look just like that prissy Lois Ann!

As she watched, the young girl thought about the other thing she'd witnessed, how Mrs. Tully had been playing with Samuel's bottom. He'd obviously not liked it ... at first. But as time went on and Mrs. Tully persisted, the once defiant boy had calmed down and lain limp in her lap, much like a rambunctious puppy dog receiving a well-received pat on the head. Samuel Oliver was now quiet, docile and awaiting direction from the woman who had taken control over him.

Marlene thought about how her own mother used to take her temperature in her bottom when she was little. That was one of her most cherished - and secret! - memories from her childhood. She loved whenever he mother did that and she often thought of it and how wonderfully warm and loving was the sensation that came from it. Once in a while, very rarely and only if she was really ill with a fever, her mother still did it for her. But those instances were fewer and fewer and she knew that one day they would stop.

She readjusted her field glasses against her eyes and sniffed. The young girl also knew that boys often made crude jokes about someone putting something up their butts. She hated such jokes and hated boys who talked like that. She suspected Samuel Oliver had taken part in that kind of talk at one time or another. She might have hated him at one time. Not now, though. She giggled as she imagined just how miserable he must be at that very moment.

I guess he's getting his in the end, she said to herself.

With that thought she tilted her glasses down, just enough to see Samuel's privates. There, just like last time, his penis was sticking straight out, bouncing around like a springy little antenna. Before his paddling it was shrunken and tiny. She wondered if it was the paddling or the butt poking that made it grow erect. She suspected the butt poking. That made more sense.

Yeah, it was the butt poking, she thought with a sense of satisfaction. Boys say they don't like that kind of stuff, but apparently they do. I must remember that...

Marlene grinned as she replayed the scene in her mind. Between the beating with the brush and having his bottom poked, the poor boy looked like he'd lost his will. Any defiance or rebellion she had seen earlier was gone. She liked that. She liked that a lot.

She turned her attention to the present. Mrs. Tully had stopped brushing Samuel's blond hair. She marveled at how feminine it now looked.

"I think he really is prettier than that stupid Lois Ann," she whispered to herself.

The old lady handed Samuel the brush and shifted her position on the old sofa, turning her back to him. She then pulled out several pins from her hair and the pile of gray atop her head fell into long tresses about her neck and shoulders. Soft words were followed by a whispered reply and the naked boy began stroking the woman's hair in an awkward and unsure manner.

"That's it, nice and slow." The old woman's words drifted across the yard into Marlene's room. "Take your time, baby doll. You'll get it right eventually. You're not going anywhere and we have all weekend."

The amazed girl glanced down at her art history book. She suddenly had a thought. Flipping through the pages, she found a painting she'd often found fascinating. It depicted a stately queen having her long luxurious hair brushed by a naked servant boy. Marlene blinked, then looked up at the scene across from her hiding place. She could not believe her eyes! If Mrs. Tully had turned lead into gold, the youngster have been no less impressed.

Marlene Miller was in awe of her neighbor. In a matter of minutes, that kindly old lady had turned a typical rambunctious twelve year old boy to an obedient and quick to please slave. She'd reduced him to tears, stripped him down to his birthday suit, beaten him into submission and now had him doing things no other boy would ever think of doing.

Mrs. Tully is amazing, the normally shy girl thought to herself. I want to be just like her one of these days! I am going to be just like that!

* * *

Downstairs in the Miller's dining room, Marlene's mother and aunt stood quietly at the window and looked at each other. An amazed look on her face, Aunt Margaret pulled out a chair from the dining table and sat down.

"Well, that was certainly interesting," the younger woman said as she lit up a cigarette, took a deep drag and blew it out.

"You know I hate those things," replied Mrs. Miller. Her voice was husky and soft. "They smell up the house."

"Want one?" Aunt Margaret asked, sliding the pack and the silver lighter across the polished surface of the table.

Mrs. Miller glared at her sister. She then sighed and smiled ruefully. "Yeah, I think I do."

* * *

Across the small strip of grass separating the Miller and Tully homes, just a dozen or so yards away, Mrs. Tully enjoyed the rhythmic strokes of the brush in her hair and smiled. She'd had her exercise and now it was time to relax.

Through half-closed eyes she glanced at the red glow of the cigarette in the window just a few yards away and the curtain blowing in the window upstairs. The house next door was quiet, just as it always was after a disciplinary session with her young grandson.

Closing her eyes, she thought about what tomorrow would bring. It was time Samuel had a playmate. It was time to pass her talent to someone else, to the next generation, for safekeeping and for the betterment of all.

And she knew exactly where to go.

To be continued...