A Very Tully Christmas 4

By David

The author prefers not to display any email address. Please direct any feedback to puericil@hotmail.com and it will be forwarded

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A Very Tully Christmas

By David

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

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

Samuel Oliver sighed. So far his Christmas morning wasn’t going very well. He stood obediently as Mrs. Tully buffed his pudgy body dry with a large coarse bath towel. He just had a bath the night before and here she was giving him another already. Normally in the mornings he just got a warm soapy wet rag run over his face and body, with a little extra attention between his legs. Then it would off to breakfast and the day’s adventures. But today was Christmas, of course, and Samuel’s guardian insisted on being extra tidy.

“We want to make sure you’re spic and span, sparkling clean, inside and out,” the imposing woman sang cheerfully as she scrubbed him from head to toe. “Cleanliness is next to godliness, and that’s the way we do things in Nana’s house. Especially on Christmas day!”

Samuel sighed again. This seemed like the hundredth time he’d been bathed by his grandmother and he didn’t like it any better than the first. It was always so unnerving, so rude, how she ignored his protests and put her fingers wherever she wanted. He could never completely comprehend why that old woman was so obsessed with his hygiene. It was obviously an obsession with her.

That old witch just likes seeing me naked, he thought sullenly. I wish my mom understood what she was doing to me.

The dejected youth couldn’t help glancing at his reflection in the full-length mirror as his grandmother continued to dry him off in excruciating slow-motion. He felt like a little kid, naked and frail compared to the imposing woman in her gaudy Christmas dress and grand, confident attitude.

“Such a pretty boy … such a lucky boy,” she sang as she buffed his hair with the towel. “We are going to have such a wonderful Christmas day together. Just you wait and see! Just you wait and see ….”

Samuel sighed. His reflection showed him to look nothing like the adventuresome all-American rough and tumble boy he so often imagined himself to be. His body was plump and weak, with a chubby butt, swollen breasts and a protruding belly. His long slender legs looked way too girlish to belong to a boy and his long blond curly locks did nothing for his masculinity.

And then there was the matter of his penis. That was what usually got him in trouble with Mrs. Tully, his mother and just about every female in his life, it seemed. He tried not to look at it, but he couldn’t help himself. At the moment it was erect and sticking out from its smooth, bald hiding place between his plump thighs.

Please don’t look at my wiener, Samuel thought to himself. Please don’t look at my wiener!

The nervous lad shivered at the thought of his penis attracting too much attention, especially when it was sticking out like that. Things always got complicated when that happened. To his combined relief and alarm, Mrs. Tully ignored his boyish organ for the moment and focused on something else instead.

“Bend over, sweetie. Let Nana dry off your little bumpity bum bum!”

The gentle bully bent her shy detainee over at the waist, pushing him face to face with his reflection in the mirror. Samuel looked up at his reflection, doing his best to ignore the powerful hands that forcibly spread his legs apart.

Well, at least she’s not playing with my wiener, he thought ruefully.

As he endured his grandmother’s rude inspection, Samuel saw his face up close and he rolled his eyes in revulsion. Like the rest of his body, his complexion was soft and blemish free, with full round cheeks and plump, pink lips. He wished he looked tougher, meaner … more like the other boys at school. Instead he was, well, cute. Pretty, even, according to his mother and grandmother. And his silky blond hair, so long and curly, only made things worse.

God, I hate my hair! Why does my mom make me grow it so long, he thought silently. I look like such a sissy. I wish she just let me cut it all off!

Trapped in such an awkward position, Samuel tried to ignore Mrs. Tully’s roaming hands, but he couldn’t help but jump when her fingers parted his cheeks and caressed his butthole. He blushed to feel it was still a bit sticky with petroleum jelly from his morning enema.

“Stand still, baby doll,” Mrs. Tully sang. “Nana needs to check your little rosebud.”

“Sorry Nana. It tickles when you do that.” He gave an obligatory giggle. He learned a long time ago that going along with his grandmother’s little games was easier than resisting them.

“Hmm, I think somebody likes their bottom played with. Am I right? Hmm, baby doll? Am I right?”

“Um-hmmm,” he grunted in shy agreement.

Samuel looked up to see his grandmother standing behind him in her colorful costume, a bright, genuinely delightful smile on her face. He tried not to think of himself being molested by a darker version of Mrs. Santa Claus.

The flustered lad sighed as the old lady ran a playful finger up his crack and pressed it against his tender anus; he then gasped as the errant digit wormed its way past his defenses and explore his freshly washed and lubricated rectum.

“Yikes!” He suddenly let out a high pitched squeal and giggled. “Nana! That tickles!”

Dang it, there she goes again, he thought to himself. I thought she was done with all that. Why is she always trying to find a reason to put something up my butt?

Despite his annoyance Samuel couldn’t help but bite his lip and squirm helplessly as the impolite finger swirled and wiggled about inside his body.

“Somebody likes Nana’s special touch,” cooed the mischievous matron. “In fact, I think somebody loves his Nana.”

“Nana, that tickles!” he squealed once more.

“Mmmm, such a perfect bum,” Mrs. Tully sweetly cooed. She withdrew the offending finger and gave the flustered lad a spirited smack on the bottom. “Nana loves playing with her baby doll’s little bumpity bum bum. Almost as much as he likes her playing with it!”

Samuel frowned as his grandmother washed her hands in the sink. As he stood up he saw his penis sticking out pink and hard. That was not good. He tried tucking it in between his thighs but it just bounced back up, eager for attention.

“Are we done yet, Nana?” he carefully asked. “It’s Christmas morning, remember? Don’t we have other stuff to do?”

“Oh, I remember, baby doll,” Mrs. Tully said in a syrupy, sugar-coated sing song voice. “Just let Nana put away her toys and we’ll go downstairs and see what kind of Christmas surprises await us!”

The naked lad glanced over at the various syringes, hoses and rubber implements laying on the countertop. As the matronly bully sorted through them he thought about how his bottom had been violated only a few moments before. Just as he’d gotten a second bath since arriving at this house of old lady horrors, he had just received his second enema treatment.

Morning, noon or night, the pattern to his enema sessions was always the same: first there was the temperature taking, then there was the obligatory rinsing with the small bulb syringe followed by a much more detailed and thorough cleansing with the humongous black rubber nozzle and large red rubber bag. And then there was the sitting on the toilet, releasing all that “boyish nastiness” with an ecstatic Mrs. Tully looking on. Rinse and repeat until he was drained, empty and completely devoid of any urge to misbehave ever again.

It was about as humiliating as life could get.

God, I hate those things, Samuel said to himself as his grandmother rinsed the colorful rubber instruments. He clenched his aching bottom muscles together. And I hate her for using them on me all the danged time!

Despite his efforts to not think about it, the bewildered boy found himself replaying the enema process in his mind, over and over and over again. He always remembered each and every excruciating detail; the gooey stickiness of the petroleum jelly between his butt cheeks, the forceful intrusion of an arrogant finger inside his rectum, the pungent smell of soapy water pouring from his bottom, all were deeply imprinted in his young mind forever.

“Yuk,” he whispered softly.

Yuk, indeed. The whole experience was exhausting and humiliating, designed by Samuel’s conniving grandmother to literally drain away every vestige of his boyish resistance and energy. He always felt dizzy and weak afterward, leaving him receptive to a long and thorough bubble bath. The good news, of course, was that at the end of the process he would be, as his grandmother so often said, “sparkling clean, inside and out!” Which was the way she liked him, it seemed.

Mrs. Tully was nearly done. The last thing she washed was the gigantic black rubber syringe. Samuel could barely contain his revulsion at the sight of the dreaded thing. His bottom ached just thinking about it.

As if on cue the large woman turned and tapped the naked boy on the playfully nose with the grotesque nozzle, then returned to her task. She always did that, never mind how awful Samuel felt. She obviously thought she was being funny and cute, and that was good enough for her.

“Say good bye to your little friend,” she cheerfully chirped. “If you’re a good boy you’ll see him again tomorrow. Or maybe tonight if you’re lucky.”

Ugh, the horrified lad thought to himself. No way!

Samuel’s body belied his feelings, however. As much as he despised the intrusive enema treatments the bullying Mrs. Tully inflicted on him, certain parts of his anatomy responded to them in a way that was confusing … and oddly delightful. The blushing boy squirmed as a sudden twinge of shameful but undeniable pleasure deep between his butt cheeks worked its way to the front of his body.

No, not that, not now, he thought ruefully. I really do hate it when she sticks those things up my butt! I really do hate it!

The embarrassed child tried his best to reverse course, but it was all in vain. He looked down to see his slender penis still standing straight up, bouncing about happily, betraying the sad look in his face. He sniffed with frustration as his grandmother put away the towel and dusted his bare body with the customary lilac-scented powder. The fragrance and sensations triggered strange reactions in the youngster’s psyche. He tried not to giggle, but the tickling of the powder puff always set him off, causing him the worst kind of humiliation in front of his grandmother.

“You like that, don’t you, sweetheart?” his jovial tormentor chided teasingly. The smiling boy nodded, though reluctantly. “Of course you do. You pretend you don’t, but Nana knows what her little boy likes. There’s no use in hiding it, baby doll. Nana understands.”

The large woman then reached under his erect organ and gave the little hooded tip – or as she called it, his “pink pearl” – a playful tickle.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it,” Samuel whispered. He glanced down at the treacherous penis and sighed. “It just does that.”

“I know you can’t help it, baby doll. Don’t you worry about it. Nana’s going to take care of it for you. That’s what grandmothers and mommies are for.”

The worried child watched helplessly as his grandmother retrieved two items from the medicine cabinet. His penis tingled wildly at the sight. Both he – and it – knew what was coming next.

“So which will it be, baby doll? It’s Christmas day. You pick.”

The nervous boy bit his lip. What a choice. In one hand his grandmother held a tall pink bottle of lady’s lotion; in the other was an old apothecary jar filled with an amber colored mixture that looked like petroleum jelly. One meant pleasure. The other meant pain. Samuel took a deep breath. Neither was a good option.

“Well, we certainly can’t have that ugly little thing sticking up all morning, can we? We can’t have such nastiness on Christmas morning. What if we have company? Some people might not understand. Right? Hmm? Hmmm?”

Samuel nodded. “Yes, Nana.”

“So we’ll just have to do something about that, won’t we? Hmm? Hmmm???”

“Yes, Nana.”

Samuel looked up to see a broad smile on Mrs. Tully’s face. He felt so confused to be making such a choice, especially considering how his babysitter was dressed like Mrs. Santa Claus.

“So, come on, baby doll, you decide. Last night you chose Nana’s salve to make your little wee-wee calm down. Is that what you want again? Do you want Nana to put some of her special medicine on your naughty little thing and make him go away?”

Samuel shrugged, then shook his head from left to right. The old woman smiled.

“Or maybe you don’t want the salve. Maybe you’d like Nana to use some lotion to rub away your little problem. Is that what you’d like? Hmm? Hmmm? You always seem to like it when Nana rubs your pretty little pink pearl. You’re always so cuuuute when you mew and coo, just like you were her precious little pet.”

As much as he hated the salve, his grandmother’s other proposal was even more horrifying. And confusing. True, it was embarrassing, humiliating beyond belief. But it also felt soooooo good. So wonderful. So … so … amazing. The problem was, the price was too high in terms of the shame and guilt he inevitably felt afterward. He dreaded looking that old woman in the eye and acknowledging that she held his greatest pleasure and his darkest secret in the palm of her hand.

“I don’t want you to … to … do … that, Nana,” the trembling youth whispered. “Please, not that. Not again.”

Mrs. Tully looked down her nose at the horrified lad and chuckled. “No? Well, then Nana’s special salve it is.”

Samuel watched as Mrs. Tully opened up the jar and dipped a cotton swab in the yellow salve. “Nana’s special salve” was a horrible concoction that smelled of cinnamon and spicy peppers. Sticky and easily spread, it burned like fire when applied to the tip of his penis, under his foreskin and inside his pee hole. Originally used to make boyish erections go away, the vile stuff also found its way on his little “rosebud” on more than one occasion. Having the inside of your butt on fire was a nightmare, indeed. No, if there was anything he hated more in the world that Mrs. Tully’s collection of nozzles and hoses and rubber bags, it was the fiery salve she used on his privates.

The naked boy watched with dread as his grandmother cupped his penis in one hand. She rolled back his foreskin and spread open the tiny fleshy lips at the very tip of the pink glans. Unnerved by the sight of the cotton swab soaked in the ugly yellow salve so close to his penis, Samuel shivered all over at the thought of the agony that he was about to experience.

“Um, Nana, I changed my mind. Can we, um … can we do … the other thing instead?”

Irma Tully smiled. “Hmm? What’s that, baby doll?” she sang. With a firm grip on his penis, she let the swab hover just inches from his pee hole.

“I, er … can we do the other thing? You know, with the lotion instead? To make my … my wee-wee … go down?”

The cheerful woman shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, I suppose. You’re sure you don’t want the medicine? I just made a fresh batch. It’s extra strong. It’ll make that nasty little thing behave, for sure.”

Samuel nodded, then shook his head. There was no way he wanted that burning salve stuff to touch his penis ever again. Just the memory of the pain it caused was enough to send him into a panic attack. As distasteful it was to be jacked off by this bully of a babysitter, anything would be better than being set on fire by her special salve.

“I’m sure. Please … can we … you know … just do the other thing? Pleeeeease???”

The old woman chuckled. “Well, if you insist. My pretty little boy wants some of Nana’s special lovin’. Just in time for Christmas.”

Mrs. Tully tossed the swab in the waste can, washed her hands and put the lid back on the jar of salve. She then unfolded the laundry table from the wall and indicated for Samuel to climb aboard and lie down. The naked lad did as he was told. He watched with nervous anticipation as his grandmother poured a generous amount of lotion into the palm of her hand.

“Just remember, baby doll, this isn’t for little boys to do.” She rubbed her hands together, spreading the lotion about with practiced grace. “Who is this for? Hmm? Who’s the only ones that can do this? Hmm? Hmmm?”

The blushing boy rolled his eyes. “Gran- … Grandmothers,” he croaked.

“That’s right. Grandmothers. And who else? Hmm? Hmmm?”

Samuel’s face burned bright red. “M-m-m … M-m-mothers,” he whispered shyly.

“That’s right. Little boys’ grandmothers. Grandmothers like me. And mothers. Your mommy can do this, too, if she wanted. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Samuel winced at the delighted woman’s words. There she went again. He hated when she talked about his mother like that. He was sure she did that just out of plain meanness, so he tried not to let her know how he really felt. Still, it bothered him, and he had enough problems as it was.

The bosomy babysitter began running her sticky hands up and down his body, smearing the sweet smelling lotion over his torso and in between his legs. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to relax. Except for the occasional tickle under his arms and around his nipples, it actually felt kinda nice. He fought the urge to resist as persistent hands spread his knees apart and ran up and down the inside of his naked thighs. Slowly, her fingers converged on his privates, one hand cupping his adolescent balls and the other encircling the smooth, hairless skin at the base of his erection. Resistance, as he so painfully knew, was futile.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” the old lady sang cheerfully. Not knowing what else to do, the blushing boy obediently nodded. “That’s right. Nana knows how to make her little baby doll feel good.”

Samuel cleared his throat. “Thank you, Nana.”

“Just remember, grandmothers and mothers are the only ones who should touch their little boys’ wee-wees. Little boys are too young and might get the wrong idea if they do this. Isn’t that right?”

Samuel bit his lip and nodded. “Yes, Nana. That’s … that’s right.”

“Open your eyes, baby doll. You need to look at Nana when she speaks to you. Don’t be a naughty Nancy.”

The embarrassed boy did as he was told. He was mortified to see Mrs. Tully’s face just inches from his own, her eyes locked on his like a predator staring down its prey. He tried to look away but he didn’t dare out of fear.

“It’s best if such things are left to Nana and your mother, isn’t that right, baby doll? You like it when Nana does this, don’t you, angel? Tell Nana all about it. You love it when Nana does it, don’t you? Hmm? Hmmm?”

The naked child nodded once again. “Yes, Nana … I … love … when you … do it.”

“You love your Nana, don’t you? Hmm? Hmmm???”

He lowered his eyes and nodded once more. “Yes, Nana. I … I love you.”

Samuel Oliver felt his grandmother’s warm hand encircle his erection and begin stroking it, up and down and up again. She placed her other hand under his bottom and slid a slippery finger up against his sphincter. There it lingered for a moment or so before suddenly sliding inside his rectum. The youngster’s penis gave a sudden jump.

Mrs. Tully giggled. “I’m sorry, baby doll. What did you say? I didn’t quite hear you.”

Samuel squirmed under the rude assault, forcing legs apart and his bottom to relax, allowing the forceful intruder to delve even deeper inside his body. Writhing under the obscene assault, he licked his lips and cleared his throat.

“I love you … Nana.”

“How much do you love me?”

The blushing boy writhed as the old woman’s finger worked its way around and around inside his tender rectum.

“I love you very much,” he whispered weakly.

The matronly bully chuckled happily. “That’s right. You just loooooove your Nana, don’t you? Let’s see just how much you love your old Nana ….”

The timid boy’s mind was reeling with confusion as the old lady expertly massaged both his penis and his bottom. Flashes of fear and anxiety combined with waves of delightful pleasure and ecstasy. He hated being touched so intimately by this bully of a woman, this control freak who seemed to have supernatural powers over his mind and his body. He was so ashamed, but at the same time he craved the sensations she created with a simple touch of her hand. As skilled as he was in the boyish art of masturbation, Mrs. Tully was a virtuoso of the craft, capable of raising his senses to untold heights and pleasures.

This is just awful, Samuel thought to himself as he writhed and squirmed under his grandmother’s hand. How can something so terrible feel so good?

He gasped as a second finger slowly and carefully slid inside his bottom, joining the first in a dance of domination and control of his emotions.

“Oh, gosh … Nana ….”

“Now remember, only grandmothers and mommies can do this,” cooed Irma Tully. Samuel winced to see the delighted woman reveling in her power over him. “Not for little boys … but for their grandmothers … and their mommies ….”

Trembling and weak, the seventh grader tried to resist the overwhelming sensations that swept over his body. He tried to think of something else, school, football, his friends … his parents. It didn’t last long. He squirmed uncontrollably under the unwanted assault, basking in the shameful pleasures being forced on him by this bullying old lady.

Eyes closed for the moment, Samuel tried not to think about what was happening. It was impossible, of course. He could have taken his medicine and suffered the painful consequences, but oh no! He had to chicken out and let his grandmother jerk him off. He’d actually asked her to do it, he realized. And now he was being punished for his perverse decision. He wondered if any of his friends went through anything like this. He thought that this was highly unlikely.

“Open your eyes, baby doll,” Mrs. Tully ordered. “Don’t be rude. You don’t want Nana to stop, do you? If Nana stops, somebody is getting a spanking.”

Samuel’s eyes popped wide open. He did NOT want another spanking. Not ever again.

“No … don’t stop … Nana ….” he shyly whispered.

“That’s my baby doll. Baby doll just loves Nana’s special lovin’, doesn’t he …?”

The stroking and probing went on and on for several minutes. After nearly a year of babysitting Samuel, Mrs. Tully knew her young victim quite well. You could say she knew him inside and out. The bosomy bully would pause whenever he got too excited and she knew when to pick up the pace and drive him to distraction. Like when she rotated her fingers in his bottom and forcing them even deeper into his rectum.

“Oh, gosh … Nana,” he gasped. “Oh gosh … oh, gosh …!!!”

Samuel thrashed and wiggled under his grandmother’s touch. At times he could barely catch his breath. At one point he caught a glimpse of her face; he was ashamed to see her looking down at him straight in the eye, that evil, all-knowing smile on her fat face capturing his disgrace.

“Has your mommy done this for you yet?” Mrs. Tully asked as she relentlessly massaged the poor lad’s erection and fingered his tender anus. “Has she talked to you about playing with your little pink pearl? Hmm? Hmmm?”

Samuel shook his head emphatically from left to right. He tried not to think about what was being suggested. He hated when Mrs. Tully talked about his mother like that. What she was suggesting would be awful, but for some reason the old lady thought it was funny. The image of his mother jacking him off like this was just plain disgusting, not to mention frightening.

“Noooooo ….” he moaned pitifully.

“Mmmm, too bad. I’ll have to talk to her again,” Mrs. Tully said with a slight musical tone in her voice. “If she did this for you every night you probably wouldn’t be tempted to do it yourself. There’s nothing like a mother’s touch, is there, baby doll?”

“Please, don’t tell my mom. Pleeeeeeease ….”

A girlish giggle added to the creepiness of the moment. The old woman cooed her words with mocking sincerity.

“Oh, come now. Just think how nice it would be if your mommy did this for her little Samuel … just think how wonderful that would feel … pulling on his little wee-wee and making him feel so very gooooood!”

“Please, not my mom. Pleeeeease ….”

The voice chuckled in an evil, sarcastic way.

“Oh, yesssss … maybe the next time you get caught playing with your wee-wee, your mommy ought to show you how it’s done. Won’t that be fun? Hmm? Hmmm? Won’t that be just the best? To have your mommy rub your wee-wee for you? Hmm? Hmmm?”

His body weak and his breathing erratic, Samuel tried to ignore Mrs. Tully’s voice, but it was too late. The seed had taken root. Despite his best efforts to avoid the image, he soon pictured his beautiful mother masturbating him, touching his naked body and cooing over him with a smirking smile on her face.

The fact was that his mom had indeed caught him masturbating. More than a few times she missed him by a matter of seconds. It was almost like she was trying to catch him, as if she was lying in wait every time he went to the bathroom or was in his room with the door shut. He couldn’t count the number of times she barged into the bathroom or his bedroom just as he was about to jack off. Sometimes she’d sit on the edge of the bed next to him, unaware – or so he hoped! – that his pajama bottoms were down around his knees; to his frustration she’d sit and chat for the longest time, until he was drowsy and fell asleep.

All that was bad enough. But to suggest that that his own mother might actually take charge and jerk him off, that she would touch him so closely, so intimately and with such knowledge? Just the very thought was upsetting.

“Oh, yes, I’ll have to talk to your mommy about this,” Mrs. Tully’s sang in her best grandmother voice. “Just think how nice it would be if your pretty mommy rubbed your little weenie for you like this every night before bedtime. Think of all the problems that would solve. No more fussing, no more crying, no more arguments over things that didn’t have to be.”

“Oh, yesssss. Just think about all the sweet dreams you’d have if your mommy did this for you every night. Wouldn’t that be nice if she did that for you? Hmm? It would, wouldn’t it? Hmmm, baby doll? Hmmm?”

The trembling lad nodded and moaned. The cooing voice was ever so right. Oh, gosh … it felt so … so very … good. An image slowly formed in his mind, the vision of a lovely dark haired woman … and in her arms a plump, blond headed child … naked as the day he was born … her hand buried in between his thighs ….

“Um-hmmm … I bet your mommy would just love making her little baby doll all warm and squishy ….”

Samuel Oliver shook his head. For a moment he was a normal twelve year old boy again. For just an instant he was his father’s son. This wasn’t right. This was wrong. She can’t say that … Please, don’t let her … not my mom!

“Repeat after me, baby doll. Say, I wish my mommy would do this for me. Come on, baby doll. Say it. Say, ‘I wish my mommy would do this for me’….”

Samuel frowned as he writhed on the table. The constant movement of Mrs. Tully’s hand up and down his penis felt so wonderful. As did the playful fingers dancing and darting about inside his rectum.

“Please, Nana. Don’t make me say it. Not … not my mom. Please?”

There was that laugh again, eerie and knowing. “Yes, say it, baby doll. Tell me how you’d like your mommy to play with your little wee-wee. Say it. Say it. Come on … saaaaaaay iiiiiiiiiiit ….”

The trembling boy sighed. Between the caressing between his legs and his grandmother’s voice, there was no use. He couldn’t fight it. It felt sooooo goooood …..

“I … I wish … my mom ….”

“Your mommy,” Mrs. Tully’s voice interrupted. “Say it right.”

“I wish … my mommy … would do this for me.”

“Rub my wee-wee….”

“Rub my … um ….”

“Not my um, silly boy. Say it. Say ‘my wee-wee’ ….”

“My wee-wee ….”

“For me.” The gleeful woman repeated the command with mocking authority. “Say it. Say, ‘I wish my mommy would rub my wee-wee for me.’ Say it!”

“I wish … I wish my mommy would rub my wee-wee for me.”

Samuel felt dirty and disgraced as he echoed those awful words. He had hit a new low in his life, but that didn’t stop him from saying them again as directed by his imperious grandmother.

“Say it again, sweetie. Say it again … and again ….”

“I wish my mommy would rub my wee-wee for me. I wish my mommy would rub my wee-wee for me. I wish my mommy would rub my wee-wee for me ….”

The more Samuel said the forbidden words the more ashamed he felt. In his heart, that is. But everywhere else it hit a hidden trigger. Triggered by his shame, the blushing child’s penis tingled and his body trembled from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. The harder he tried not to think about the awful things he said, the greater the sensation that jolted his senses.

“I wish … I wish my mommy would rub my wee-wee for me. I wish my mommy would rub my wee-wee for me ….”

All of a sudden a fierce electric shock take over Samuel’s young body and a glorious stream of ecstasy squirted from his erect organ. Rude fingers in his rectum pressed on his sensitive spot and he felt a whole series of fiery streams shoot out from deep within his loins. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know that he’d squirted all over himself and the laundry table.

“Uh-oh, lookie-lookie! Somebody made a little messy-wessy all over his little selfie welfie!” Mrs. Tully sang cheerfully. “Too bad your mommy isn’t here to take care of this little mess. No matter, Nana can do it.”

The shamed lad covered his face. He was absolutely mortified at what he’d done.

“I’m sorry, Nana. I … I couldn’t help it. I’m so sor-reeeeeeeee ….”

His grandmother gave a condescending chuckle. “Oh, tsk tsk. Poor little baby doll. Is Nana’s pretty little boy embarrassed? Well, don’t you worry about a thing. Just be glad you didn’t do it yourself. This isn’t for little boys, right? Somebody might have gotten a harsh spanking if he’d done this for himself! Aren’t you glad Nana is here to take care of you? Hmm? Hmmm?”

Why does she have to talk to me like that, the exhausted lad thought. It’s bad enough that she jacked me off! God, I wish she wouldn’t talk to me like I’m a baby!

“Come on, baby doll. You can tell Nana. Didn’t that feel so very good? Aren’t you glad she is here to take care of you? Nana will clean you all up and make you feel so good. Aren’t you glad? Hmmm?”

Samuel sighed. “Yes, Nana … I’m … glad you’re here. It felt … really good.”

“It’s too bad your mommy isn’t here to see you like this.” Mrs. Tully looked down at him with a mocking smile. “She’d be so proud, seeing you like this.”

Samuel felt his entire body turn red. The idea of his mom seeing him all sticky and messed up after jacking off was not something he wanted to think about at that moment.

“Just remember, this is just for grandmothers and mommies to do … and not for little boys.”

The shamed boy coughed, then nodded. “Yes, Nana.”

Samuel felt himself lifted up and cradled in his grandmother’s ample bosom, just like he was a little baby. He felt her clean his penis and wipe his bottom with a warm wet cloth. Moist kisses smothered his upturned face and a beaming smile of love and adoration rained down upon him.

“Nana thinks somebody is very happy right now. Am I right, baby doll? Hmm? Hmmm? Am I right?”

The weary boy nodded, then smiled. Just a little. He didn’t even roll his eyes as she kissed his mouth, her old lady mustache and musky breath tickling his nose.

“Silly little boy. Now be careful to not fall down ….”

Samuel was then helped off the table and back to his feet, his knees wobbly and unsure. He looked down to see his poor penis, limp, weak and sleeping. With any luck it would remain that way for most of the day.

A stinging fire suddenly woke him from his reverie.

“OW! Nana, that hurt!”

While he was daydreaming Mrs. Tully had picked up a large brush and given his bare bottom a spirited smack. She then turned her attention to his hair. A wave of melancholy hit him as she began brushing and teasing his blond tresses. He felt so ashamed after what had happened on the laundry table. And now he was standing naked before this old woman while she primped and pampered him like a life-sized dress up doll. The misery he felt was unbearable.

“Such a pretty little boy,” Mrs. Tully gloated as she looked the freshly scrubbed and buffed boy up and down. Samuel winced as she gave his bare bottom another lively smack, again with the back of her hairbrush.

“Ow, Nana! That hurt!”

“Oh, poor baby. Here, let Nana give it a kiss.”

“No, Nana, don’t ….”

Despite Samuel’s protests his grandmother bent him over the table, easily holding him down against his will. He could feel her dry lips caress his bare butt. Oh, that was so awful! How could she do that to him? Why did she have to be so gross?

Despite his attempts to resist, Mrs. Tully persisted in embarrassing her precious pet. She first kissed his bottom where she hit him with the brush, then she kissed his other cheek as well. He tried to squirm away, but the matronly bully had strong hands; she easily held him down and repeated the action, going back and forth, from one side of his bottom to the other, peppering his bare bottom with playful, disgusting little old lady kisses.

“Nana, please … don’t … OW!!!”

The horrified child squealed as his grandmother gave his soft bottom a playful but painful nip with her teeth. The sensation was so bad that for an instant he thought she’d actually taken a bit of flesh from his butt.

“Ugh! Please don’t bite, Nana,” he sniffed. “That really hurt me.”

Mrs. Tully gave the offended spot a final kiss. She then stood the timid lad upright, spun him around and forced him to bend backward across the table. He felt so helpless lying face up before her like that, naked with his belly and genitals exposed. She looked him up and down, her smug face sporting a gluttonous grin.

“My goodness, baby doll, you are simply the most precious thing I have ever seen! If all I get for Christmas is to spend time with my pretty little boy, well, that will be the most perfect gift of all!”

Samuel cringed as the old woman leaned in close once more. The slimy lips planted unwanted kisses all over his face, shoulders and nipples while roving hands caressed his naked belly and in between his legs. He tensed up as curious fingers tickled his limp penis, and he almost jumped out of his skin as he felt a painful pinch on its sensitive pink tip.

“Ow, Nana, please stop! That hurt my … my wiener!”

“Don’t say ‘wiener,’ baby doll. Say ‘wee-wee.’”

The frustrated boy sighed. Lying back on the table, he couldn’t even begin to get up or try to resist. Best to just stay where he was and go along for the ride.

“Sorry, Nana. You hurt my … my wee-wee.”

“Then maybe I should give your little wee-wee a kiss, too?” Mrs. Tully said with a girlish giggle. He felt her hand wrap around his tender organ. “Do you want Nana to kiss the boo-boo on your wee-wee?”

Samuel was horror-struck. She couldn’t be serious! He tried to sit up but was easily held down with a simple push from his babysitter’s hand.

“NO!!! No kissing my … my … wee- … er, my boo-boo!”

“What, you don’t think a little kiss would make your wee-wee feel better?” His grandmother gave him another hard pinch on the tip of his penis.

“Ow! Nana … that huuuuurts,” the trapped boy cried.

“Silly boy, everybody knows kisses make boo-boos go away. Here, let Nana show you how it’s done ….”

Samuel’s eyes went wide with panic as the old woman suddenly bent over and gave his bare belly a kiss. He almost giggled from the initial sensation – he couldn’t help it, he was so ticklish – but then she bent down even further and *gasp!* gave the tip of his boyish appendage a kiss. A definite, unmistakable kiss. He froze up as he felt her lips open up and envelope the sensitive skin in a smeary, wet kiss that went on for way too long.

No, please no, he thought as he felt a familiar tingling in his penis. Her mouth is open and … oh gosh … was that her tongue? On my dick? UGH! Not that! Not now. Why would she do … THAT???

The horrified child had no idea how to react when his grandmother pulled away and looked down at him. He could feel the cool moisture of her saliva linger on the tip of his penis, a reminder of the shameful moment that would be forever imprinted in his memory. The smile on her face was serene and happy, which confused him. So many thoughts ran through his mind he didn’t know what to do or think.

“Nana,” he whispered. “Please, don’t do that anymore. Please? That’s … that’s so nasty ….”

Mrs. Tully let out a witchlike cackle. “What? You didn’t like Nana’s kisses? Then maybe I should put some of my special salve on it. Think that will make it feel better?”

The panicked boy immediately shook his head. “No, please! It’s not that bad. It’ll be fine. No salve please. Just no more kisses, either! Please? I’ll be good, I promise!”

“You don’t want Nana to do it again?” The demented Mrs. Claus laughed to see Samuel shake his head so hard his blond curls covered his face. “Not now? Well, let me know if you change your mind. Nana just loves her little baby doll.”

Relieved, for the moment anyway, the blushing boy nodded. He then closed his eyes for a moment and wished he was a million miles away.

This is the worst Christmas ever, he thought as he wiped a tear from his eye.

To be continued ….

(The End)