It's a Tully Halloween 5

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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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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It’s a Tully Halloween!
By David
Part Five – Into The Witch’s Lair

Twelve year old Samuel Oliver watched with dread as Mrs. Miller pulled the family car into the driveway. After a long, laborious night of trick or treating and Halloween partying, the nearly naked lad was equally eager and anxious to get out of the public spotlight and to a place of safety and security. In just a few minutes he would be in his babysitter’s house, and while that may not have been the first place he would have turned to for protection – on the contrary, on any other occasion it would have been the very last place, indeed! – at the moment it was his next best option; anything would be better than the frights and humiliations he’d endured in the past several hours. Still, he wasn’t exactly looking forward to whatever came next.

And so he sighed a sigh of resignation as he neared the end of his Halloween journey.

Or so he thought it was the end ….

The wary child opened the car door and put his bare feet on the cool pavement. He looked over at his babysitter’s house and frowned. Something weird was going on. Well, weirder than usual. After spending Halloween in not much more than his bare skin, he should have been used to things being weird. But there was something else; something in the night … in the darkness … was … wrong.

It was Mrs. Tully’s house, he thought. All of the lights were off at his babysitter’s home and there wasn’t a sound to be heard. Adding to the mystery was how the street in front of his babysitter’s home was completely empty; even the streetlights were dark. Something funny was most definitely going on in the lonely little house at the end of the lane.

Samuel Oliver scratched at the round plastic ears that adorned his curly hair and he twitched his painted nose in comic fashion; his cartoon mouse face took on a puzzled expression as he wondered if maybe Old Lady Tully had either gone to bed or deserted her post entirely.

“What’s going on over there?” the bewildered boy asked. “I thought Nana …er, I mean … I thought Mrs. Tully was having a party after trick or treats.”

Standing next to Samuel was his occasional friend and full-time archenemy, Marlene Miller. Also age twelve, Marlene was adorned in a colorful Wonder Woman costume she’d made all by herself; form fitted and expertly sewn, it showed off every feminine curve and crevice of her blossoming adolescent body. The grinning girl glowed with a mature, womanly appearance in contrast to the nearly naked and oh so vulnerable Samuel.

“Of course Mrs. Tully is having a party, you stupid boy.” Marlene rolled her eyes. “You helped her set up for it, remember? She always has a party after trick or treating, you know, mostly for adults. She figures kids shouldn’t be the only ones to have fun.”

Samuel nodded. “Well, where is everyone? Did we miss it?”

The girl in the Wonder Woman costume put her hands on her hips and threw back her head and laughed as hard as she could, her joy and amusement filling the night air. She looked so powerful, so confident as her long kinky hair flew wildly, her red cape flaring out to frame her blooming female form. From the golden super hero crown atop her head to the bright red knee high boots on her feet, she was the embodiment of powerful, youthful femininity.

In comparison poor Samuel felt so small and wearily weak, just like the comic book mouse he was made up to resemble. It didn’t help that his chubby, babyish body was practically nude; only a layer of white body paint covered his bare skin and the tiny, fragile loincloth draped carelessly over his miniscule privates and plump bottom did little to conceal his self-loathing. He cowered before his gleeful friend, ashamed of himself and wishing he was a million miles away.

“You don’t have to be so mean to me,” he whispered. “It was just a question.”

“Good grief, Sissy Sammy! Are you really that dumb or are you just acting that way?” Marlene reached out and smacked the frowning lad on the forehead with the heel of her hand. “The party isn’t until ten. It’s barely nine-thirty. Things don’t get going for at least another half hour. Chill out, for god’s sake!”

Samuel nodded. “Okay, okay, you don’t have to act like I’m stupid. I was just asking. It’s just that … well, it looks like there isn’t anybody home. It’s actually … kinda creepy looking over there. Almost like a haunted house.”

Marlene giggled. “Ooooo, is that right? A haunted house, hmm? What’s the matter, sissy boy … is the wittle mouse skeered? Ooooooooooo … you better watch out, mouse boy! The evil old witch might get you … and your bare butt, too!”

The nearly nude boy bit his lip. His friend’s words hit home closer than she probably realized. The whole evening – heck, the whole darned day! – had been unnerving. After all he’d been through, having his Halloween plans disrupted, his mom lying to him about going out of town and giving away his super cool Ironman costume, and then getting left with Old Lady Tully and being paraded around the neighborhood in little more than a washrag to hide his modesty – Tarzan never wore anything like that! – he had every right to be “skeered!” He knew from bitter experience that as long as he was in Mrs. Tully’s custody anything could and probably would happen; the worst probably was yet to come.

“I’m not skeer- … I mean, I’m not … scared,” croaked the flustered child. “I’m just worried. I mean, what if she's not home? What am I supposed to do then?”

“I dunno. That’s your problem, not mine.” Marlene shrugged. "All I know is we were supposed to get you back here before ten o’clock. We’ve done our part, mouse boy! Now you’re on your own.”

“That’s not helping,” Samuel whined. “You’re not the one who’s been picked on all night long!”

The freckle faced girl giggled once again. “Oh you big fat sissy! This is great! You’re so scared you’re about to pee yourself. I don’t know why I waste my time hanging around you so much. You’ve got to be the biggest baby I know!”

Samuel sighed. He didn’t like Marlene talking to him like that. Just when he thought she liked him … after getting kissed on the lips and touched … well, in private places he only dreamed a girl would touch him … just when he thought maybe she was his girlfriend … she had to ruin everything by being such a snot … and … and … such a … a bully!

Geez, I hate her sometimes, he thought to himself. I wish she’d just go away and leave me alone!

That’s what he told himself. The problem was … he didn’t really mean it. Oh sure, he hated being teased and bullied by this weird freckle-faced girl, but as the old saying goes, sometimes bad attention is better than no attention. And in Samuel’s case … well, he secretly enjoyed … no, he truly relished … the attention he garnered from his bossy companion. As much as he hated to admit it, there was a part of him that tingled and glowed just knowing that he was the focus of so much scrutiny … so much … interest … under her care. While he often wished he could have a more “normal” relationship with his … friend? … he had to admit that it was kinda sorta fun being stripped naked under her gaze … and submitting to her pushy, sometimes mean-spirited will.

I bet the other guys don’t have a girlfriend who makes them go naked and bosses them around, he mused ruefully.

“Earth to Samuel! This is ground control to Sissy Boy Samuel Oliver! Can you hear me, over? I repeat, can you hear me?!”

SLAP!!! The sensation of Marlene’s hand smacking against the twelve year old boy’s butt caused him to squeal out in pain.

“OW!!! Marlene! Stop hitting me like that!” Samuel rubbed his burning bottom and fought back the temptation to cry. He really wished she wouldn’t do that. Well, at least not so hard ….

“Geez, Marlene … that really hurt ….”

Samuel heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. He looked up to see Marlene’s mother and aunt – dressed up as “Batwoman” and “Catwoman” respectively – looking down at him; each had a broad, knowing smile on their face, their white teeth gleaming between bright crimson painted lips. The nearly naked lad blushed as he realized the two adults had seen and heard everything, including him getting his bare butt smacked.

Oh crap, he thought. I totally forgot they were here!

“Hmm, back in my day the boy and girl kissed at the end of their day,” mused Aunt Margaret. “I don’t remember anybody getting a spanking. Do you, sister dear?”

“I can’t say I do,” Mrs. Miller said coyly. “Well, we’re going inside, Marlene. Don’t be too long. You have to get ready for that … thing ... remember? The THING we’re going to in a little while?”

The freckle-faced girl grinned. “Oh yeah! That … thing we’re going to. Okie dokie!"

"What thing is that?" Samuel asked.

Marlene grinned. "Oh, it's just a nunya thing."

The curious lad frowned. "A nunya thing?"

"Yeah, none ya business!" Marlene laughed wildly.

"Okay, that's enough for now, children. It's time to break up your little party." The Batwoman looked down at Samuel Oliver, a sly smile spread across her crimson lips. “Good night, ‘Oliver Mouse.’ Come in soon, ‘Wonder Woman.’ You've got to get ready.”

Marlene rolled her eyes. “Yes, okay Mom,” she grunted impatiently. “‘Night, Aunt Margaret.”

Samuel nodded. “’Night, Mrs. Miller. ‘Night, Miss Margaret,” he squeaked.

“Hurry up and open the door!” hissed Aunt Margaret as the pair of sisters headed for the house. She made a comical sight as she did a little dance in her Catwoman costume. “I’ve got to pee something awful! It’s going to take forever to get this stupid catsuit off!”

The two children giggled as the adults disappeared inside the Miller home and shut the door. Marlene shook her head and laughed. “Aunt Margaret is just hilarious,” she said happily. “I love her so much!”

Samuel nodded. “Yeah, she’s pretty funny. So is… um, your mom.”

The freckle-faced girl grinned. “Yep, my mom is awesome. But she’s not as funny as you are, ‘Oliver Mouse.’ Or should I say, ‘Sissy Sammy.’ Or maybe … just plain old ‘Samantha.’” She studied the flustered boy for a moment and shook her head. “Nah, ‘Samantha’ only works when you’re wearing something girly. The same with ‘Sissy Sammy.’ Let’s just stick with ‘Oliver Mouse’ for now.”

Samuel grunted. In an effort to change the subject, he said, “Seriously, that thing your mom said you gotta get ready for … are you guys going out again?”

Marlene shrugged in a very boy manner. “Mmmm … maybe. We were invited to a friend’s house. Nothing you’d be interested in. It’s gonna be all women. Well, mostly women.”

The blushing boy nodded. It’s too bad she’s got to go, he thought sadly. Maybe if she didn’t go Mrs. Tully would let me stay out later ….

There was an awkward silence. The two twelve year olds looked up toward the front porch and then back at one another. Marlene reached out and took both of Samuel’s hands in hers.

“Well, you better get over to Mrs. Tully’s house. The party will start pretty soon and she’s probably expecting you to help with her guests.”

Samuel cringed. “Oh geez! I sure hope not! I’ve had enough of Halloween. I just want to sneak in and go to bed. I’m really tired and ….”

Before he could say another word, the girl in the Wonder Woman costume pulled him close and planted a kiss on his lips. She then wrapped her arms around his body, arms and all, and squeezed him tight, like a boa constrictor about to consume its prey; the eager girl increased the pressure of her mouth against his, forcing her tongue in between his teeth and practically smothering him in the process.

Surprised by the sudden assault, the nearly naked lad struggled to get free, but his arms were pinned to his side and his young captor’s embrace was unrelenting. The more he squirmed the more passionate she became, forcing herself on him and practically choking him with her tongue.

“Ugh! Marl-eemph!!! *gasp!* Wait … minute … *gasp!* Can’t … breave ….”

The two children made a strange sight, a young girl dressed as Wonder Woman caught up in passionate kiss with a boy made up to look like a white cartoon mouse. The mouth mashing continued for a long time, smearing Samuel’s makeup and causing him to nearly pass out from the lack of air. All of a sudden he felt Marlene’s hands slide under the flimsy piece of cloth that covered his bottom and a sharp sting on his either side of his butt caused him to squeal out in pain; it took him a second to realize that the mischievous girl had given him a cruel pinch.

“Ow! Marlene, don’t do that! Why do you have to be so mean to me?” The whining boy dropped his bag of treats and rubbed his aching bottom with both hands. “Geez, that hurts! I really wish you’d stop doing stuff like that!”

Marlene giggled. “Oh, I’m not mean. If I was, you’d find yourself in a really bad situation. Like this, for instance ….”

Before Samuel realized what was happening, his mischievous friend reached down and grabbed one of the little strings that held his loincloth in place and yanked it; the next thing he knew he felt a cool breeze between his legs and over his bottom. The giggling girl held her prize above her head and twirled it around in the air like a little flag.

“Aw, come on, Marlene!” The naked lad picked up his trick or treat bag and used it to cover his exposed privates. He glanced around to make sure there was no one else around to see his bare butt. “That’s like the hundredth time you’ve done that tonight! It’s not fair!”

The girl in the Wonder Woman costume grinned. “Of course it’s not fair. Fair has nothing to do with it. It’s fun and I like having fun. Don’t you like having fun? Come on, admit it … you like being naked in front of me, don’t you? Hmm? Hmmm?”

A chill went down Samuel Oliver’s spine, and not just because he didn’t have any clothes on. Marlene’s words … what she said and, just as important, the way she said them … sounded eerily similar to those of his evil babysitter. And that’s what scared him! He pursed his lips as he thought; was Marlene Miller turning into … Mrs. Tully?

The weary boy gritted his teeth as he spoke. “Please, Marlene … give it back. This is really embarrassing! I’m tired of being naked all the time.”

“Oh, shut up, sissy boy,” Marlene said in a mocking voice. “I’m not stupid, you know. I know how you feel. You can’t hide your feelings from me, Samuel Oliver! You love being naked almost as much as you love being my little pet! As long as I’m around I’m in charge, and as long as I’m in charge you’re going to be naked! And don’t you forget it!”

Samuel nodded. It was like the smirking girl could read his mind. Part of him hated how she made him feel; the other part of him … was in love. As much as he hated to admit it, Marlene was right; he would pretty much let her do anything she wanted. At the tender age of twelve he was a budding masochist, vulnerable, terrified and excited … and in love with a blossoming dominatrix.

Samuel glanced down at his plump, baby fat body covered in white stage makeup and sighed; his frightened penis peeked out from between his pudgy thighs like the little mouse he was made up to resemble. The naked lad then looked up to see his friend – his … girlfriend? – standing before him with her hands on her hips, looking every bit like a heroic Amazon in her brightly colored costume. It seemed pretty obvious to him who was in charge of things; and it sure wasn’t him!

“Okay, okay … very funny,” he said with a sigh. As a measure of honor as a boy he had to at least act like he had a spine, even if he was the only one who would notice it. “Now will you please give back my costume? Please?”

“Oh, you mean this little thing?” The smiling girl put her finger to her chin and shot him an adorably cute sidelong glance. “Umm … no! I think I’ll just keep you that way the rest of the evening. And don’t give me that sad puppy dog look. If you ask me again I’ll go borrow Aunt Margaret’s whip and really you something to cry about!”

There was a commotion inside the Miller house and the two children glanced up at the front door. It wasn’t easy to see, but apparently someone was watching them through the curtains; womanly laughter could be heard, along with excited, though muffled whispers. The naked boy sighed. He wondered if Marlene’s mother and aunt were always going to be around when they were together.

This is one strange family, he thought grimly.

***

“You don’t have to come with me,” Samuel said. “I can see myself home. Well, not home. I meant to Mrs. Tully’s. Oh, you know what I mean!”

“Oh, I know what you mean, all right.” The freckle faced girl giggled. “I just want to see good old Mrs. Tully’s face when she sees you in your birthday suit all painted up like a silly mouse. This is not what you looked like when you left her earlier tonight!”

The naked boy twitched his mousey nose and glanced down at his painted body. It looked so alien, so weird to him, to see his bare skin covered in the bright white theatrical makeup; even the part that had been concealed under his loincloth was so pale it was difficult to tell where the coloring ended and unadorned skin began. He rolled his eyes to see that his frightened wiener had shrunken back so far all that could be viewed was the little pink tip; at least that was one less thing for him to worry about!

“I really wish you’d give me back my costume. It’s bad enough that I got all this stupid paint on me. How am I gonna explain not wearing any clothes? I’m probably gonna get in trouble, you know.”

“I sure hope you get in trouble,” Marlene Miller said. “I like it when you get spanked. I bet Mrs. Tully will have a conniption fit when she sees you’re not wearing your little Tarzan panties! I hope she gets mad at you and busts your fat little butt! That’s what I think!”

“Gee, thanks.” Samuel sighed. Marlene was right; what if Old Lady Tully did have a conniption – whatever that was! – and decided to bust his butt? He had no idea what his babysitter would think when she found out he was running about on Halloween night completely naked. He figured it probably wouldn’t be good. He’d already gotten one spanking that day, back when he said some ugly things about his mother. He really hoped he didn’t get another one quite so soon. The skin on his bottom could barely handle one of her spankings a day; two were unbearable and getting three in one day was pretty much a living hell.

Please, I don’t want another spanking, he prayed. I don’t think I can handle another one after all I’ve been through ….

The two children stepped up onto the porch and stood before the front door. The house was eerily quiet and dark, completely out of character of its usual life and charm. Samuel steeled himself before ringing the doorbell. He rarely had a good time whenever he went through that door; despite his hopes and wishes, he knew there was a good chance that his life was about to take a miserable turn. He wondered what would happen if he decided to take his bag of candy and just run away. It was a silly thought, of course; he probably couldn’t get very far, made up like a naked cartoon mouse, his bare bottom hanging out for all to see!

Well, here I go, he thought as he reached out to press the doorbell button ….

His finger didn’t even make contact when the door suddenly swung open and an obese, large-bosomed figure appeared! The apparition caught Samuel with such surprise that he almost fell backward; if it hadn’t been for Marlene catching him the poor boy might have fallen off the porch.

“Oooooo, lookie here!” squealed Mrs. Tully. “Two more trick or treaters! How wonderful! Happy Halloween, little darlings! Happy Halloween!”

“Trick or treat!” Marlene yelled. She nudged Samuel with her elbow. “Trick or treat! Give us something good to eat!”

“Um, trick or treat,” mumbled Samuel. “Give us … something … good to … eat ….”

The nervous boy held his trick or treat bag over his exposed privates as he stood before his hated babysitter; he just knew that at any moment she would grab him by the hair of the head and give him the paddling of his life.

But that isn’t what happened. Not even close.

“Happy Halloween!” the fat lady cheered with the greatest enthusiasm. “Happy Halloween to you little cuties! Happy Halloween!”

Irma Tully looked more comical than threatening with a tall witch’s hat atop her blue beehive hairdo and yards of flowing black satin and gauze that covered her voluminous feminine figure. Barely covered by the low neckline of her gown, her enormous breasts bounced about in seemingly slow motion as she jumped up and down and clapped her hands with an exaggerated, childish manner; even in his anxiety, young Samuel could not take his eyes from the sight of such womanliness and he easily imagined his face buried in between the fleshy mounds, inhaling the fragrance of lilac and being overwhelmed by his babysitter’s always inappropriate attentions.

“Ooooo, I surely to goodness don’t want any tricks played on me,” the fat woman said with a laugh. “I better give you some treats so you don’t do anything naughty to me!”

To the baffled boy’s surprise, his babysitter didn’t even seem to notice that he was naked, or if she did she didn’t seem to care. Rather, she carried on as if the two children were just another pair of trick or treaters, piling their bags full with homemade cookies and yummy chocolate treats. Samuel blinked with disbelief as he gazed upon the amazing confectionary treasures before him; over the course of the evening the paper bag had gotten so full he was afraid it might burst!

“Let’s see, there’s one for you and one for you … oh, and how about another two for you … and two for you ….”

As weird as this all seemed to young Samuel, Mrs. Tully’s odd behavior was like a dream come true. Usually when he stayed with the old lady all he ever got to eat was bland vegetables like boiled cabbage and spinach and Brussels sprouts and – ugh! – buttermilk to drink. But today all that had changed; just a few hours before, on this very afternoon, his babysitter had presented him with a plateful of delicious pastries and actually encouraged him to eat them all up, no tricks, no surprises. And now he was in possession of more candy and sugary delights than he’d ever seen in his entire life! Samuel never dreamed that this weird woman would not only allow him to consume so much tasty goodness, but she would the actual source of his most favorite treats.

“Wow, thank you, Nana!” the excited boy exclaimed with genuine sincerity. “This is great!”

The giant witch’s eyes narrowed for an instant. She gave Samuel a careful look up and down his painted body and back up again. She obviously knew who he was, but for some reason she pretended as though he was a complete stranger.

“Why, thank you, little mouse! Do I know you?” she cooed as she added yet another gift wrapped chocolate treat in his bag. “You’re so cute, how about a little more? I’ve plenty leftover … just don’t tell your mommy!”

It was Samuel’s turn to giggle. “Oh Nana, you know who I am! It’s me!”

“Me? Hmm … I don’t recall anyone by the name of ‘Me.’”

Samuel laughed a genuine laugh. It was good to know that his babysitter could tease like that and not be mean to him. Weird, but good for change. Maybe the evening was going to end on a happy note after all.

“It’s me, Samuel Oliver!” the grinning boy enthused. “I’m your grandson!” he shouted with excitement.

Samuel instantly regretted those words as soon as they came out of his mouth. Despite what he’d been told by both his mother and Mrs. Tully, the old witch was in no way related to him; she was not his grandmother and he was not her grandson. And based on his experiences over the past several months, he refused to even think of this … this awful woman as his kin. Not after all of the shameful things she did to him … and made him do … and how she made him feel.

But this was not the time or the place for such a debate. He’d never seen this side of his babysitter before and he was starting to enjoy it. Usually when she acted nice it turned out she really being cruel; but this time it looked like the real thing. He just hoped it would last. Just this once, he’d be her grandson … and happy to play that role as long as she wasn’t mean and he could eat all of these wonderful chocolatey treats!

After a moment of awkward silence, Mrs. Tully’s eyes grew bright with mischief and she allowed a knowing smirk to spread across her thin, grandmotherly lips.

“Samuel Oliver? Oh my, it is you! How cute! I recognized my sweet Marlene, but I had no idea this cute little mouse was my sweet baby doll!” Her eyes narrowed. “What happened to your fun Tarzan costume? What’s the matter, didn’t you like it?”

“That’s my fault, Mrs. Tully,” Marlene suddenly interjected. “There was a lady doing really amazing theater makeup down at the park and … well, it was all my idea. I begged Samuel to let her paint him up, so it’s all my fault. Please don’t get mad at him. Please?”

Samuel blinked. He couldn’t believe Marlene was taking up for him. He’d braced himself for an argument and even worse; usually his freckle faced archenemy went out of her way to get him in trouble, but here she was taking the blame and making a plea on his behalf.

What the heck is going on, he wondered. This is … nice. Weird, but really … nice.

“Well, I think he looks wonderful!” Mrs. Tully exclaimed. “I can see that his makeup is professionally done. I just love his little mousie wousie ears and those big blue eyes are to die for! Aw, Samuel, you make such a cute little mouse! It’s so original! And I couldn’t even tell who you were!”

Marlene giggled. “I named him ‘Oliver Mouse’ so the other kids wouldn’t know who he was. We saw some of his friends at the party and they had no idea. He had a great time fooling everyone! Didn’t you, ‘Oliver’? His own mom didn’t even recognize him!”

The plump witch cackled with delight to hear of the children’s adventures. Samuel was caught completely off guard by the casual way Marlene explained everything; she did such a good job of it, in fact, that even he thought the events of the evening sounded logical and fun. It didn’t even seem to matter that he’d gone the entire evening in little more than two pieces of cloth to conceal his privates and the crack between his bare cheeks. After hearing Marlene’s version of things he had to admit he did have a pretty good time, despite some of the more awkward moments. Or at least it sounded that way.

“Well, ‘Oliver,’ you should be a happy little mouse,” cooed Mrs. Tully. “Your costume is marvelous and it sounds as though you had a marvelous time!”

“Thanks, Nana!” Samuel glowed … for a moment. Then he noticed his babysitter’s eyes travel from his face to down lower on his body.

“Uh-oh … lookie lookie! I think I see another little mousie wousie! How sweet! Where did HE come from?”

The fat woman giggled like a little girl and Samuel looked down to see that he’d let his bag of treats drop too low and his bare penis was exposed to view. The blushing lad quickly lifted up his goodie bag and prayed that the matter would be dropped.

But it wasn’t, of course. Mrs. Tully cackled with delight and insisted that Samuel put down his Halloween bag so she could get a better look at his body.

“Turn around, little mouse,” she insisted. “Let old witchy-poo get a good look at you … and your sweet little baby mouse, too!”

As she spoke the jolly Halloween witch kissed the tip of her forefinger and then reached down and touched the pink tip of Samuel’s “mouse” as it peeked out from between his thighs. The embarrassed boy looked over to see Marlene’s eyes go wide with delight; he could only imagine what awful things she might be thinking.

“Oh my!” Mrs. Tully cooed. “What happened to your loincloth, baby doll? Did you go to the Halloween party at the park looking like this? Tell me it isn’t true, you naughty boy!”

Samuel felt his face burn and his heart race as his babysitter went on and on about his appearance. He started to tell Mrs. Tully that, no, he did not go downtown naked, that he had on that stupid Tarzan loincloth, for whatever that was worth. But then Marlene was quick to jump in and tell her version of the evening’s events; unlike her earlier testimony, however, it was just the opposite of the truth!

“He sure did, Mrs. Tully!” she declared loudly. “After Miss Mackie made him up to look like a mouse he took off his Tarzan panties and said ‘I don’t like wearing this stupid thing’ and he just strutted around completely naked like he didn’t have a care in the world!”

“Samuel Oliver!” Mrs. Tully exclaimed with a laugh. “You went bare bottomed around in front of people … and let them see your little wee-wee? You actuall let people see you in your birthday suit? I thought you were a bashful boy. And after all that fussing you did! I’m shocked, I tell you … shocked!”

Marlene shot Samuel an evil glance, accompanied by an equally wicked laugh. “Oh, he did it all right, Mrs. Tully. He sure did it! But don’t worry, nobody noticed a thing. As you can see for yourself, there really wasn't much to look at."

Both Marlene and Mrs. Tully had a good laugh at that one. Samuel wished the earth would just open up and swallow him, he was so humiliated.

"But seriously,” the giggling girl continued, “Miss Mackie did such a good job on his makeup that people didn’t even realize he was naked. Isn’t that funny? And Samuel … er, I mean, ‘Oliver Mouse’ really enjoyed himself, going around in his birthday suit.”

“That … that’s not … exactly what … happened ….” Samuel croaked.

But before he could say another word Marlene seized back control over the conversation. “Oh, it is, too, Samuel Oliver! You know it and I can prove it! Look, Mrs. Tully! See here? He even won the costume contest at the party! Isn’t that fabulous?”

Samuel watched with despair as his friend dug into his trick or treat bag and pulled out the pink ribbon he’d won for “Cutest Costume.” Marlene licked the back of the award and pressed it hard against the bare skin of his chest where it stayed, much to his surprise. The flustered boy rolled his eyes and sighed; this was not exactly what he needed at that moment in time.

Well, at this point Mrs. Tully looked about as happy as Samuel had ever seen her. The rapture in her eyes was only matched by the delightful smile on her face. The old woman jumped up and down and clapped her hands and giggled with glee, she was so thrilled by the news of her grandson’s accomplishment. Samuel didn’t know which was more unbearable, the lie that Marlene had just told his babysitter or the jolly woman’s ridiculously childish reaction to it!

“Well, all of this is such a surprise!” Mrs. Tully exclaimed. “Oh, baby doll, I am so happy for you! To have such a great adventure and to come home with this huge bag filled with all sorts of goodies. It looks like you had a great Halloween!”

“I did, I guess,” Samuel croaked. “It turned out okay, I suppose.”

Despite Marlene’s inconvenient tale, Samuel was relieved at his babysitter’s reaction so far. He’d been worried that she would get mad because he’d lost his Tarzan costume and come home instead covered in makeup and body paint; he just knew she’d use that as an excuse to paddle his bare bottom. There was also the matter of his Halloween candy. Until today he’d never been allowed to eat anything other than bland vegetables during his visits with Mrs. Tully; would his luck continue, or would his precious chocolatey and sugary treasures be confiscated?

I sure hope not, the worried child thought to himself. If I could I’d eat the whole bag, right here and now, just so she couldn’t take it away from me!

Well, all good things must come to an end, so to speak, and so Samuel came to see as Marlene suddenly excused herself and stepped off the porch toward her home next door.

“I’ve got to get going … my mom and aunt are expecting me. Thanks again, Mrs. Tully, for letting me take Samuel out for the evening!” The costumed girl blew Samuel a kiss and gave him a cute little girlish wave. “See you later, Oliver Mouse. Have fun!”

It was at that moment that the boy in the mouse makeup realized that he was back in the custody of his dreaded babysitter. He watched his friend disappear into the night and he then turned to face his babysitter. While the look on his face was sad and disappointed, Mrs. Tully beamed with childlike excitement.

“Well, come on in, baby doll,” the jolly woman said sweetly. She had a gleam in her eye that sent chills down the naked lad’s spine. “We’ve got a party to prepare for! We’ve got to get you ready to make a good impression on Nana’s lady friends.”

Samuel sighed. Oh yeah … the stupid grown up party. He wished he didn’t have to attend that. He wondered where Marlene was going.

I wish I could spend the rest of Halloween with her instead of Old Lady Tully, he lamented silently. That would be nice ….

***

Samuel Oliver was creeped out as he preceded his babysitter into the darkened house. His feelings weren’t unusual considering the things that always happened to him under her watch. But this time the little cottage at the end of the lane looked so spooky it literally gave him the shivers; from parlor to kitchen, the lights were turned off in every room, leaving the only source of illumination the occasional candle lit jack o’lantern or Halloween decoration. The resulting shadows were ominous and foreboding, adding to the naked youngster’s sense of dread.

Adding to the eerie atmosphere were the soft sounds of groans and rattling chains and ghostly whispers emitting from the darkness. Samuel had almost forgotten about the hidden speakers and the tape of scary noises Mrs. Tully had set up to go along with her Halloween props and adornments. Earlier in the evening they had been much louder which, like his babysitter’s extravagant decorating style, was fun at the time; but now the creepy sounds were barely audible, which made them even more unsettling, it seemed. The anxious child felt more than a little foolish that the cartoonish sounds frightened him; but still … he couldn’t help but feel more than a little freaked out hearing them in the darkness … naked and vulnerable … and at the mercy of the witchlike creature behind him ….

“Um, is there anybody else here, Nana?” Samuel whispered as he tiptoed along. “It sounds like somebody else might be in the house.”

Mrs. Tully chuckled. “Mmmmm … there might be one or two scary characters about,” she said mysteriously. “It’s hard to say … you never know what might happen on All Hallow’s Eve ….”

The poor boy tried to think of something else to take his mind off his fears; for an instant he thought about his bag of Halloween treats. Mrs. Tully made him leave them in the kitchen, but despite her assurances – “No time for sweets now, sweetie! You can enjoy them later ....” – he truly doubted he’d ever see them again. With his luck it would be boiled cabbage and Brussels sprouts for the rest of the weekend.

That didn’t do any good, the nude child thought sadly. This is not a fun Halloween. Everything is going wrong … nothing is going my way … not at all ….

“Go on, baby doll,” encouraged the fat woman. She nodded toward the old clock in the parlor; Samuel could barely make out the time in the darkness. “It’s past nine thirty, so we have to get a move on. Let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up for Nana’s special party. Don’t be scared … I know it’s all dark and spooky, but it’s supposed to be fun. It’s Halloween, remember? Don’t worry, Nana won’t let anything bad happen to her precious honey bunny.”

Like a forlorn little child Samuel Oliver marched barefoot and bare bottomed toward the staircase ahead of his babysitter. Passing the clock, he could definitely see the time; in less than thirty minutes he would be facing his grandmother’s friends, helping her entertain who knew how many old ladies in what would have to be the lamest Halloween party ever.

I’m not scared, the pouting boy said to himself. I’m just gonna be bored to death. This is gonna be just awful ….

In the darkness the house seemed so much scarier; even the stairs seemed to creak and groan more than usual. The nervous lad couldn’t help be creeped out by the way things were going. It was bad enough that he had to spend Halloween with his weirdo babysitter, but this was really taking things too far, he thought.

Samuel’s insides tingled as he finally entered the dreaded bathroom of horrors; like the rest of the house it, too, was dark, illuminated only by a flickering candle here and there. The smell of lavender and lilacs – his grandmother’s signature fragrance – caused him to think about all the times he’d been in this room before and how it turned out for him each time; he didn’t want a spanking or – even worse! – an enema … not after the kind of day he’d just had. Especially not in the creepy darkness … not like this!

“Please, oh please ….” he whispered as he watched his babysitter turn on the water for the tub. She cast a dramatic, frightening image standing in the candlelight in her witch costume. “Not tonight … please … not tonight ….”

“Well, it’s time to say good bye to ‘Oliver Mouse’ and hello to my sweet baby doll,” Mrs. Tully cooed. “I just love your pretty mousie wousie costume, but your makeup is all smeared and ugly. Let’s get you back to looking like my pretty baby boy, all right?”

Samuel squinted as the lights around the bathroom mirror came on and he saw his full reflection for the first time. Just as he thought, he looked totally ridiculous with those huge, silly white mouse ears atop his slicked back head of hair and his whole body painted white from his face to his toes. Miss Mackie’s makeup job was a little worse for wear – kissing Marlene had smeared the pink lipstick and some of the painted whiskers.

Still, it was no wonder that nobody recognized him with his little black nose and a gray muzzle; particularly impressive were those wide exaggerated eyes with their huge painted lashes. He’d been terrified when Bobbi McCarthy and Kendra Jackson confronted him at the party downtown, but looking back, it was easy to see how they could be fooled. He was actually proud that he’d been able to pull off such a feat … even if he was almost naked when he did it!

Warm, grandmotherly hands suddenly settled on Samuel’s shoulders, forcing him to turn from the mirror. “Come along, baby doll, stop admiring yourself and let’s get into the tub. You can soak for a bit, then we’ll wash you up and you can get into your costume for the party. Nana wants you to look nice when you go downstairs and entertain her friends!”

Samuel removed his mouse ears – Ow! They were really tight on his head! – and turned to see the bathtub filled with warm, steamy water and soap suds. He was then led over to the sink where his babysitter produced a jar of cold cream; she smeared a liberal amount on his face, ears and neck.

“There, we’ll leave that on for a bit while you take your bath. Oooo, as cute as you look as a sweet wittle mousie wousie, Nana can’t wait to see her baby doll’s pretty precious face again!”

Next, Samuel found himself led over to the toilet. He felt a pang of dread deep inside his bottom in anticipation of what would come next.

“Does baby doll need to poopie or tinkle?” the old woman cooed sweetly. “It’s been hours since you last went. Surely you have to do one or the other. You’d best go now before we get you ready for the party. We don’t want an accident, do we?”

The blushing boy reluctantly nodded. The witchy woman was right; it had been several hours since he’d last gone to the toilet and at the moment he did have to pee something terrible. He also felt a slight sluggishness inside his belly – thanks to all of those stupid cupcakes he gobbled up earlier – but he didn’t have to poop right away, thank goodness. Well, not just yet; he could hold it for a while, he reasoned. Maybe, just maybe … if he was lucky … he wouldn’t have to get his bottom poked that evening.

Please, oh please … not tonight, he prayed silently. Not on Halloween ….

Samuel reluctantly took his seat on the toilet under the watchful eye of his adopted grandmother and tried to pee. He felt just as awkward as the first time he did this, especially under Old Lady Tully’s watchful eye. It seemed that boys in her care were not allowed to stand when they relieved their bladders; oh, no … they had to sit, just like silly, sissy girls, regardless of whether they had to do “number one” or “number two.”

It took him a couple of minutes to relax enough to pee. Having someone staring at you, even if they’re smiling, can do that. Samuel hated when his babysitter did that, and after all of the times they went through this ritual he still had trouble going while she watched; it was just so embarrassing, to allow his bladder and bowels to let loose and do what comes naturally … with those gleeful, mischievous eyes and leering smile hovering over him with such interest … such obsession.

“Um, Nana, can I ask you something?” In an effort to take his mind off his problems he decided to strike up a conversation. He glanced at the cabinet where his babysitter stored her mysterious collection of nozzles, hoses and rubber bags. “You’re not going to, um … give me … um … you know … wash my bottom out … are you? I mean, I’m fine. I don’t need it right now. I promise!”

The blushing boy immediately regretted the words as he spoke them. Why had he even brought that up? He really didn’t want an enema. It’s just that he was confused; for the past several months there had not been a single time – not once! – that he’d entered that very bathroom and he wasn’t greeted by the sight of that huge rubber bag and its accompanying hose and nozzles. Even in the middle of the day when he had to go to the bathroom, even if it was just to pee, it was common for his “grandmother” to order him up on the table that folded down over the tub and grease up his little butthole and fill his belly with warm soapy water.

So why did he even bring it up? Well, you must remember, dear reader, that Samuel Oliver never, not once, ever had a normal bowel movement while in his babysitter’s care. Not a single one. While this may seem odd to some and perhaps even excessive to others, it only made sense when you saw it from her point of view; the domineering matron was determined to maintain complete control over everything her grandson did, from what he ate and what – if anything – he wore to the chores he did and the way he spent his play time; this included his bathroom habits and what came out of his body and when it did so.

The art of the enema was one of Irma Tulle’s greatest passions and young Samuel was her plaything on which she experimented; he had taken to receiving enemas the quickest of any child under her care and his reaction to them was as rewarding to her as it was debilitating to him. No matter his mood or frame of mind when he entered the little house at the end of the lane, this once rough and tumble all-American boy became an obedient, pliable and submissive little doll the instant he was faced with his grandmother’s collection of syringes and nozzles and hoses and hot water bottles. After dozens and dozens of invasive cleansing and rinsing treatments, Samuel’s body, mind and soul had been affected by the ritual so much that – as much as he hated to admit it – part of him loved it almost as the other part of him dreaded it. And thus his mixed feelings as he stepped into the warm, soothing bubble bath without so much as a cursory examination of his naked bottom and nether regions.

The old woman smiled as Samuel finally let loose and made water; he looked so cute sitting naked on the toilet with his face covered in cold cream and embarrassment showing through his baby blue eyes. She loved it when she made him feel ashamed; it was the best feeling in the world and with each iteration she was determined to improve her game again and again.

“Aw, isn’t that sweet? Does baby doll want Nana to give her precious boy a nice refreshing enema? No? Well, I’ll tell you what … we don’t have the time right now. But if you do as I say and are a good little boy, then later, after the party is all done and we clean everything up, Nana will give you her undivided attention. We can have as many enemas as you like! How does that sound? All right? All right!”

Once he was done Samuel stood up and politely let his adopted grandmother wipe the tip of his penis with a tissue. The toilet water was customarily examined and flushed away and he was then led over to the huge porcelain and iron bathtub. The sensation was marvelous as he lowered himself into the perfumed not-quite-too-hot water; even he had to admit it was kind of fun to be surrounded up to his chin in the thick soapy suds.

“Doesn’t that feel nice?” cooed the matronly babysitter, her voice low and warm and loving. She dipped a washcloth in the warm water and ran it over the weary child’s shoulders and down his back. “Mmmmmm … poor little thing … he’s had such a hard day. Best to just lie back and let Nana make you feel better ….”

What happened next was totally out of character for what normally occurred in the Tully household; Samuel Oliver was allowed to enjoy his bath in peace and quiet, unmolested for the first time ever under his guardian’s smothering care. It took the naked child a few minutes before he could completely relax, but he eventually laid back in the tub and let the comforting waters and fluffy soap suds envelope him entirely. He didn’t even mind the fragrance of lavender and lilacs. For once he felt warm and safe and completely at ease.

“You just relax, baby doll.” Mrs. Tully flicked the switch next to the mirror, turning off the lights and rendering the room to the faint illumination of scattered candle light. “Take a little rest while you can … you still have a long night ahead of you ….”

Encouraged by his babysitter Samuel allowed himself to slide under the slick, fragrant water so that his face and curly hair received a thorough soaking. He smiled as the slick, perfumed water relaxed his chest and belly and then his thighs, lower legs and feet; this felt so nice … why couldn’t it feel this way every time he took a bath? When he surfaced and opened his eyes he was surprised to see that his guardian had disappeared from the room, leaving him to enjoy a bit of alone time … to rest … to unwind … and think upon the weird and wonderful things that had happened … to him … so … far ….

***

When Samuel woke up he was standing in the middle of the candle-lit bathroom, his pink, pudgy body still completely nude but warm and soft and … smelling of lavender and lilacs? It took the seventh grader a moment to get his bearings; he must have dozed off, but now that he was awake – just barely – he could tell from the smooth, slick way his skin felt that he had been buffed dry and meticulously covered in his babysitter’s favorite lotions and powders. He glanced in the mirror and saw that his freshly scrubbed face was clean of Miss Mackie’s theater makeup; it was now shining bright and pink as ever before. In addition, his dark blond hair had been shampooed and toweled and brushed until his curly tresses shone like silk and draped down either side of his head in embarrassing ringlets. Sighing deeply, he pondered for an instant that he really needed to talk to his mother about getting his hair cut, but he was too weak and drowsy from his impromptu nap to pursue that line of thought ….

A strong, warm hand suddenly rested on his naked shoulder. The weary child looked up to see the reflection of a tall, obese figure in a witch costume emerge from the darkness behind him.

What the …? His eyes went wide with surprise. Mrs. Tully? Where did she come from? he wondered silently. She wasn’t there just a second ago!

The startled boy bit his lip and forced himself to calm down. He shouldn’t have been surprised. He always considered his evil babysitter something of a witch; based simply on the way she treated him, all of the ugly things she’d done to him and made him do, she’d proven herself evil enough, that was for sure! He looked up at their combined reflection and grimaced; from the pointed hat atop her blue beehive hair to the flowing black satin dress that covered her immense figure, Irma Tully struck an eerie contrast to his own soft, vulnerable body with its pink, plump flesh and doll-like appearance. For some reason he wondered if perhaps this was all a dream … or some sort of magic spell. Or more likely … a curse ….

“Come along, baby doll,” Mrs. Tully said with a mischievous, witch-like chuckle. “It’s time to get you dressed up for your audience ….”

Padding along barefoot and bare bottomed, twelve year old Samuel allowed the witchy woman to lead him by the hand down the darkened hallway to her equally dark bedroom. He was beginning to wake up at this point and he yawned for the umpteenth time as they entered the sleeping chamber. Downstairs he could hear the muffled sounds of ghostly moans and whispers. He smiled as he thought about the extravagant measures his babysitter had gone in her Halloween decorations.

This isn’t so scary, he thought to himself. It’s kind of silly if you really think about it. I mean, nothing really bad has happened so far. Maybe this stupid party might be fun after all.

That’s when Samuel saw the box on the bed. It was a costume box, the one he remembered from earlier in the evening. “Mars, God of War,” was emblazoned on the front, along with a photograph of a little boy wearing plastic armor and a winged helmet; a sword hung from his waist and his hands held a bow and arrow.

“Go ahead, baby doll,” Mrs. Tully said in a sweet, encouraging voice. “Open it up. See what Nana has picked out for you to wear at her special Halloween party. You’re just going to love it, I’m sure!”

Samuel took a deep breath and lifted the lid and set it aside without looking at the contents of the box. Now that he was mostly awake, he knew there was a good chance his words were about to come back to haunt him. This was the point where things usually went bad for him and he dreaded what he was about to see. He then exhaled and he forced himself to glance down.

It was as bad as he expected. There was no sword or helmet. There was no plastic armor. There wasn’t anything at all that looked like what was on the top of the box. All he saw was a cheap little kid’s bow and arrow set laying on top of a pile of fluffy pink net-like cloth.

It figures, he thought to himself. Why can’t things ever go my way?

“Well, don’t just stare at it, silly boy,” cooed the giggling woman. “Get it out and give it a good look. Then we’ll get you dressed and you can go downstairs and show off your pretty new costume to Nana’s guests!”

With trembling hands the anxious lad lifted the silly toy bow and arrow kit from its container, along with that awful, icky net material; he cringed at the mere touch of the ultra-feminine cloth and he knew that no good could come from wearing whatever it was supposed to be.

But there was something else in the box that shocked him even more than the toy weapon set and girlish cloth; at first he thought it was a pile of pink feathers, but closer examination showed it to be ….

“… Wings?”

Irma Tully let out a loud, witch-like cackle. “Well, of course it’s wings. Isn’t that what’s on the box? A picture of a little boy with wings and a terrible weapon? Isn’t that what you need to be a great warrior?” That is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Samuel looked up at Mrs. Tully with burning, wet eyes. This wasn’t a costume … it was just something to make him look silly … silly and ridiculous and humiliating … just like everything else she gave him. He couldn’t wear this, not … oh, gosh! Not when he was supposed to help her entertain her friends!

Oh crap! the worried boy thought to himself. She wants me … is gonna make me … wear this stuff to her Halloween party? I gotta let people see me wearing … whatever this is?

I am so fu- ….

“Nana, I … I really don’t wanna wear any of this,” Samuel said. “Please? Do I have to?”

“Come on, baby doll,” the cruel witch sang. “Don’t be a party pooper. Let’s put on your pretty warrior costume and get going. I have guests waiting downstairs to see your grand entrance!”

As if in a daze or some horrible dream, Samuel watched with horror as his hands began acting on their own, as if they were under the control of someone else; it was like he was a puppet under a magical spell … by some evil puppet master … or a wizard … or a mischievous, giggling obese witch with a penchant for tormenting young boys ….

To his disgust he watched as his very own hands – not his grandmother’s, but his! – pulled the length of pink tulle material from the box and playfully turned it about, allowing the fluffy, girly material to swirl about in the air like a flag for some fairy kingdom. He cringed as his fingers flowed through the pink mesh, caressing and stroking it as if it was a living thing. The next thing he knew his whole body did a quick spin and he was quite literally wrapped in the length of cloth; the touch of which caused goose bumps to sprout all across his naked body.

At this point he managed to regain control of his body. Well, his mouth at the very least.

“Nana! What am I supposed to do with this?” he complained. “Please … I … I don’t wanna wear a dress! Please, don’t make me ….”

“Oh, pish posh, don’t be such a negative Nancy,” the old woman sang cheerfully. “This isn’t a dress, though we could turn it into one if you like,” she added with a naughty giggle.

“NO! No dresses!” The shamed child frowned. “Please? Not a dress? Puh-leeeeeeassssse?”

Mrs. Tully put her finger to her chin in a dramatic, childish manner. “Not a dress? Hmm … well, we can turn it into another costume, I’m sure. Let’s see what we have here ….”

The naked boy stood as still as his babysitter worked. He shivered as her deft fingers tugged and pulled at the wispy pink tulle – and caressed his body in the process, of course; more than once an errant digit slid up the freshly powdered cleavage between his butt cheeks and there were so many tweaks at his nipples and pinches on his little ballsack he couldn’t keep track. That old woman worked so fast and with such little regard to his privacy it was like being attacked by an overeager octopus.

"Nana! That tickles!" he squeaked in embarrassment. "Please ... don't do that ...."

Samuel closed his eyes as the jolly woman groped him and pawed at him with childish abandon; he prayed, please, oh please, let this work! Please, Halloween has been bad enough. Please, let this turn out to be something good for a change! Please, oh pleeeeeeeassssse ….

“Here you go, baby doll! Take a look at your wonderful new costume!”

When Samuel turned to the mirror he was not surprised when he saw his reflection. Disappointed, but not at all surprised. The pink tulle material crossed his body like a sash, from his left shoulder to his right hip, leaving his chubby little belly, his plump bottom and his nether regions all completely exposed, of course. A thin pink satin ribbon was slung from his other shoulder, holding a pink plastic quiver containing two fragile arrows; the quiver was decorated with little hearts and flowers molded into its plastic surface, giving it a fairy-like appearance. In Samuel’s hand he held a little kid’s bow, barely big enough for a toddler to play with; like the quiver, it too was made of cheap pink plastic, with large red plastic hearts decorating the notched tip at each end.

As if all of this wasn’t silly enough, there was that set of fragile pink feathered wings that adorned the center of Samuel’s naked back. Attached by a strong adhesive tape between his shoulder blades, the miniature wings were perfect in shape and beautiful in color; the problem was that they were just so absurdly small in scale – together they were barely larger than the span of a pair of hands, just barely reaching the width of his shoulder blades. Along with the pink accessories Samuel’s new wings added just the right degree of ridiculousness with the comic, infantile air to his appearance.

They look like something a first grader would wear, the flustered lad thought to himself.

Standing before the dressing mirror, Samuel couldn’t help but stare at the ridiculous, babyish sight before him. His skimpy costume was about as childish and humiliating as anything he’d ever worn before! The puffy pink sash and its equally pink accessories didn’t look anything at all like what Mars, the God of War might wear. With his bare butt and his shriveled penis completely exposed, he looked more like a little baby than a twelve year old seventh grade boy!

This is just awful, the humiliated lad lamented. Why is she making me wear this stupid outfit? None of my friends from school have to dress up like this! I'm not a stupid baby! I'm almost a teenager!

Why me!!!???

Samuel sighed a sigh so loud it sounded more like a sob. For an instant he thought maybe, just maybe, his costume would be as advertised; how neat would it have been to dress up as Mars, the God of War! But he didn’t even come close to looking like any kind of warrior, especially with that stupid frilly pink sash and those dumb old pink wings and that stupid baby bow and arrow set with those sissy girl hearts all over it. If anything he looked like a silly, prissy little sissy boy pretending to be a … a ....

"A cupid!" chirped Mrs. Tully. "That's what you look like, a sweet adorable little cupid! Oh, how pretty! How marvelous! How … wonderful!”

Samuel rolled his eyes. His adopted grandmother was right. He did look exactly like a cupid. A stupid, sissy cupid with curly blond hair and that stupid wide-eyed baby face and that stupid fat butt and teeny tiny wiener. Even his swollen “boy boobs” and their plump, pointed nipples fit perfectly in with his angelic appearance.

Ugh! It was enough to make a guy sick!

The really weird part of all this was, as much as Samuel hated how he looked, how he couldn’t take his eyes from the bizarre sight before him. It was as though he had taken on a whole new identity, as though something that was once hidden now was revealed … and he just had to see it … and study it … and stare at it. Even if he despised it with all his heart.

This is worse than the stupid Tarzan costume she made me wear, he thought to himself. Heck, this is even worse than that sissy ballerina outfit! At least that covered my bare butt and my wiener!

The dejected child turned sideways and stared in the mirror at the miniature wings attached to his back. He turned side to side, marveling – and worrying – over how they seemed to flap with his every move. He even bounced up and down a bit to see if he could make them fall off; you can imagine his disappointment when he realized they were on to stay.

"Please, Nana,” Samuel whined, “I don't wanna be a stupid old cupid. I wanted to be ... something else ... anything else ...."

Samuel’s worries over his costume were not lost on his babysitter. Irma Tully rubbed her hands together in a very witch-like fashion and cackled with glee.

“Oh, you can’t fool me, my pretty! Your words say you’re unhappy, but your actions tell the truth. Nana knows what you need and what you like, and she knows you just love your sweet little sissy costume, don’t you? Hmm? Don’t you? Hmmm?”

The frustrated boy crossed his arms over his chest and stomped his foot. “No! I hate it! I hate it more than … than … than anything! I hate it and I don’t want to wear it!”

“Oh, don’t be a crybaby, baby doll,” the overjoyed babysitter teased. Seeing her young prisoner near tears was such a delight, she almost couldn’t stand it. “This is so much better than being a nasty old Martian warrior. Don’t you agree? Hmm? Hmmm?"

“No it’s not!” fussed the nearly naked child. “It’s horrible!”

“Oh, I don’t believe that. Turn around for Nana,” cooed Mrs. Tully. Samuel groaned and did as he was told. The overgrown woman-child clapped her hands as though the blushing boy was a little baby who’d just taken its first steps. “Oh, he’s such a pretty little boy! Oh yes he is! Oh yes he is! It makes Nana’s heart soar to see her gorgeous little baby doll looking so sweet and pretty in his fluffy, frilly little costume! Oh yes it does! Oh yes it does!”

Aggravated by his reflection in the mirror and angered by his babysitter’s enthusiasm, Samuel felt his temper rise to a dangerous level. He hated the way she treated him and he hated the things she made him do … and wear. It was bad enough that he’d been deprived of his big chance to show off his super cool Iron Man costume for Halloween; it was bad enough that his clothes had been taken away and he’d been tricked into going trick or treating in a stupid Tarzan loincloth; it was bad enough that stupid ol’ Marlene had talked him into going to the stupid ol’ Halloween party and getting made up to look like a stupid ol’ cartoon mouse; and it was bad enough that he’d been paraded all around town in next to nothing and gotten teased and mocked and who knows what all. That was all bad enough ….

But now it was worse. After all he’d been through, poor Samuel Oliver was given no respite from his humiliations. Instead, he was now forced to dress up as a stupid old cupid or fairy or whatever … to run around with no pants, no loincloth … nothing … all for some old lady’s entertainment? And on top of all that, he was expected to go entertain a bunch of other old ladies? That was the last straw!

That’s it, he thought angrily. I’m not doing this! Not anymore! Mrs. Tully is always bullying me around. She had her fun! I’m not playing anymore … I’m gonna tell her what I think and I’m going take off this stupid stuff and go hide in my room. She can have her stupid ol’ party without me! I ain’t goin’!

Fueled by his fury and the sum total of his resolve, the winged child once again stomped his foot and crossed his arms over his chest. “I hate this, Nana! I look stupid and everybody is going to laugh at me when they see how stupid I look! This isn’t a costume at all! I might as well not wear anything!”

The woman in the black witch costume looked down at her young prisoner and chuckled. “Oh, you don’t mean that, baby doll. You look so pret-ty! You’re Nana’s pret-ty lit-tle sis-sy! Don’t you want to look pret-ty for Nana and her friends at the par-ty? Don’t you want to be her pret-ty lit-tle sis-sy so she can show you off at her par-ty?”

Samuel gritted his teeth. “No! I don’t want to be a sissy! And I don’t want to look pretty! And I don’t want to go to your stupid party! I look stupid and I don’t want to look that way, either!”

Approaching his wit’s end, the furious youngster tossed the plastic bow on the bed and yanked off its accompanying quiver – complete with arrows! – and discarded it as well. He did likewise with the pink tulle sash, slipping it over his shoulder and letting it drop to the floor. But when he tried to reach around and pull off the offending cupid’s wings, they were so small his arms couldn’t bend that far back to touch them.

“Nuh-uh-uh!” Mrs. Tully said with a laugh. “Calm down a bit, baby doll. There’s no need to be upset. This is all in fun. You like to have fun, don’t you? Hmm? Hmmm?”

“This might be fun for you, but it’s not for me!” the naked lad exclaimed. “This is not any fun at all! I don’t want to wear this stupid outfit! I hate it!”

The enormous woman nodded. “Mmmmm … so my little baby doll would rather go nakey wakey than wear his pretty cupid costume? Is that what I’m hearing? Hmm? Hmmm?”

Samuel sighed. That question didn’t make any sense. She knew he didn’t like being naked, especially in front of other people. She just said that to make him mad, he figured. She’s always doing that to me! She’s not really going to make me go naked at her stupid party …

… is she?

Why does Mom keep leaving me here, the pouting child asked himself. He’d wondered that a million times since he first stepped through Mrs. Tully’s front door all those months ago. If only his dad was here … he wouldn’t let any of this craziness happen ….

I’d give anything if I could put on a pair of pants right now, Samuel Oliver thought silently.

“I asked you a question, baby doll,” sang the fat woman. “Aren’t you happy with your sweet little cupid costume? What’s the matter? Isn’t it pretty enough for you?”

The exasperated boy sighed. “I don’t want to wear this costume, Nana! I … I’d rather just wear my regular clothes! I don’t want to do Halloween anymore!”

Irma Tully pursed her lips. The look on her face was one of genuine concern, as though perhaps she was for once actually worried about the tearful lad’s feelings. She put her hand under his chin and lifted his face up so that she could look him in the eye; Samuel reluctantly made eye contact with her, hoping against hope that she might see things from his point of view for the first time.

“Poor little baby doll … poor little boy. He’s so confused, so upset. I can see that now. It was unfair of mean ol’ Nana to put her precious lover boy in such an awkward position of responsibility. He doesn’t know what he wants. All he knows is that he wants to have fun, to have a Happy Halloween, to have fun costumes and eat fun treats and have fun with his friends. Isn’t that right, baby doll? Hmm? You just want to have fun and not have to worry about silly ol’ Nana and the silly ol’ costumes she makes him wear. Isn’t that right?”

Samuel slowly nodded his head. Though he would probably have not put it quite that way, but yes, his babysitter pretty well summed up how he was feeling. She was right; he did want to have fun and have fun costumes and eat fun treats; all he wanted was a fun Halloween, just like the other kids got. Nothing special, nothing fancy … just fun and treats and a little bit of excitement. What more could a guy ask for? Hmm? Hmmm?

“Well, don’t you worry, baby doll. Nana understands you. Oh yes she does! Nana knows exactly how you feel and she knows exactly what you want. You don’t want to look like a silly little sissy, dressed in pink with prissy little wings and silly baby toys with cute girly hearts on them, do you? Of course you don’t!”

Again, the boy in the pink cupid’s wings nodded his head, slowly but surely. The words coming out of his babysitter’s mouth were straight and true. She knew exactly how he was feeling and what he did and did not like; that could be good … or it could be bad.

“And if I know you, baby doll,” the smiling woman continued, “you certainly don’t want to run around with your hair all girly curly and your bare bottom showing and your precious little wee-wee hanging out, do you? Of course you don’t! You’re a big strong boy who wants to be a superhero, a soldier, just like his daddy. Isn’t that right? Hmm? Hmmm?”

Samuel nodded once more. Again, his babysitter was on target with her assessments, though he wished she’d stop using that stupid baby talk. Why couldn’t she just talk to him like he was an adult? Well, almost an adult. He put that out of his mind for the moment, however. He was more interested in getting out of this mess and back into his regular clothes; he wanted to feel like a boy again, not some stupid sissy baby cupid. Only then would he truly be happy.

“That’s right … Nana knows just how her precious baby doll feels. She knows he’s so embarrassed and disappointed. But don’t you worry. Nana knows just how to make things right. That’s right … she knows how to fix everything!”

Mrs. Tully took a seat on the bed and with her powerful hands she turned the tearful lad to face her. For an instant Samuel thought she was going to give him a hug and perhaps help him out of his shameful cupid’s wings and give him back his clothes; but that’s not quite what happened.

“Here, stand still for a moment, baby doll.”

The plump matron’s face pudgy face glowed with excitement as she positioned Samuel just right. He watched with curiosity as she held his chin just so; it wasn’t until she raised her other hand that he realized what was about to happen.

SMACK!!!

The stunned lad was shocked to feel a fierce, painful slap across his face, with head rattling force. His cheeks burned and his ears turned red and he had the sudden urge to pee. The sheer power of the blow was enough to make his nose tingle and his eyes to water; that sensation quickly turned a release valve and he felt himself starting to cry uncontrollably.

"Why … *sniff!* … did you do that, Nanaaaaa? *sniff!* I didn’t do any- ...."

SMACK!!!

Before Samuel could finish his sentence a second blow across his face stunned the confused lad, taking away what was left of his already struggling breath.

“Nanaaaaaaa … *gasp!* … that … *gasp!* … huuuuuurrrrrrt … *gasp!* … meeeeeeeeeee ….”

“Aw, is the little crybaby gonna cry?” cooed the cruel woman. “Did the mean old witch hurt his feelings? Hmm? Hmmm?”

The tearful youth wiped his eyes and rubbed his cheek. This sudden turn of events was as baffling as it was terrifying.

“You didn’t hurt my feelings,” he said bitterly. “You hurt ME!!!”

Irma Tully’s eyes glowed with pleasure. “I did, did I? Did those wittle wove taps hurt Nana’s pwecious wittle baby doll? Awwww ….”

An evil laugh sent chills down the naked child’s spine; he suddenly felt like he was going to throw up.

“Well, my little angel, if you’re going to cry, then I guess I ought to give you something to cry about.”

Samuel suddenly felt himself being pulled across his babysitter’s humongous satin and gauze covered lap, his chubby legs forcibly spread wide apart and his arms locked in behind his back just below the little pink cupid’s wings. The realization of what was coming next was upon him, and the muscle memory from a hundred similar experiences caused his body to go limp and weak.

“NO!!! Please, Nana … not another spanking! Please … gah! Nana!!! Please … no spanking … no spanking … pleasepleasepleaseplease … NO SPANKING!!!”

His pleading was all in vain, of course; he couldn’t have escaped the old witch’s trap if he tried.

“See? Even Nana’s pretty baby doll knows what’s wrong,” the fat woman sang with a Halloween cackle. “He knows exactly what’s wrong. Nana’s pretty little angel needs another warning spanking, doesn’t he? Oh yes he does! Oh yes he does! Well, don’t you worry, baby … we can fix that right now, can’t we? We’ll have another nice little warning spanking and then everything will be all better, won’t it? Oh yes it will! Oh yes it will!”

Samuel was desperate. He hadn’t even gotten spanked, yet, and his plump bottom was already twitching in pain. This wasn’t fair, he thought. He’d already been spanked once since arriving at his babysitter’s house … why did he have to get another one so soon?

“Please, Nana,” he squeaked. “I don’t want another spanking. I’ll be good, I promise! I double double promise to be good as long as I live! I promissssssssse …!”

The mischievous matron let loose a girlish giggle. Samuel’s eyes popped wide open as he felt one of her fingers slip up between his buttcheeks and caress his little “rosebud” for just an instant.

“Oh, don’t you worry, baby doll … Nana knows you’ll be good. You’ll be good if that’s the last thing Nana does. Nana will take care of everything. All it takes is another nice little paddling on this adorable little bare bottom to set things right ….”

WHACK!!!

The poor boy would have squealed out in agony, but the fiery pain was so hot, so fierce, it literally took away his breath. The target was a tender region along the back of his thighs; one spot was so inflamed he was left sobbing in torment, his eyes watering and his nose running so badly he was both blind and breathless.

And that was just the first blow.

“Poor little thing. It just got confused and forgot who wears the pants in Nana’s house, didn’t it? All Nana’s sweet baby needs is another little reminder that there are rules in this house and consequences for not following them.”

CRACK!!!

As bad as Samuel thought the first hit was, the second blow was oh so much worse! The panicked child thought for sure he’d been burned with a branding iron, it was so terrifically painful. He looked up just in time to see his babysitter raise her hand up high for the next blow; he was horrified to see that she held a thick wooden hairbrush, the very same one that was used to blister his bottom on several previous occasions over the previous summer.

Where did stupid brush come from, he wondered as it came down hard on the sensitive back of his chubby thighs.

SMACK!!!

“EEEEEE!!!! Nana … *gasp!* … wait … *gasp!* … don’t ….” He strangled to get out the right words. “Pleeeeassse … *gasp!* … don’t … spaaaaaank … *gasp!* … meeeeeeeee!!!!!”

Samuel may have thought no one heard his cries for mercy, but they were heard; oh yes, they were heard, all right … and fully appreciated and savored by his gluttonous, gloating grandmother. Unfortunately for him they had little effect except to encourage her disciplinarian nature. Irma Tully relished the desperation she heard in the sobbing twelve year old's voice; it was like music to her ears, the earnestness, the pleading … the authentic sense of panic. There was little else on this earth that made that old woman happier than knowing she had at her mercy a soft, plump bottom that was fresh and ready for a harsh spanking; even better, she possessed the power to bring tears to the helpless lad who owned those fat little buttcheeks and control everything he did and felt.

“Mmmm … what a time to be alive,” the delightful matron said with a satisfied chuckle. “I just looooooove my job!”

THWACK!!!

“Now tell me, baby doll ... who wears the pants in Nana’s house? Hmm? Hmmm? Who wears the pants?"

WHACK!!!

"Come on, little angel ... don't be shy ... who wears the pants in Nana’s house?"

Samuel fought to block out the pain long enough to speak the words his babysitter wanted to hear. That was the only way to get her to stop, or so he hoped. All he had to do was stop crying long enough to say them ….

“You wear the pants!” he gasped in desperation. “You wear the pants!”

SNAP!!!

“I don’t know anybody named ‘you’,” the old woman teased. “Who wears the pants in Nana’s house? Hmm? Hmmm?”

WHAP!!!

“WAAAAAAH!!!!” cried Samuel. He felt so little, so helpless, as the electric shock of the hairbrush burned his flesh. “Nana wears the pants! Nana wears the pants! NANA WEARS THE PANTS!!!”

SLAP!!!

“What about Nana’s pretty little sissy boy,” the old woman sang happily. “He doesn’t get to wear pants, does he? Hmm? Hmmm? Does Nana’s little baby doll wear any pants?”

WHACK!!!

“NOOOOO!!!!” cried Samuel. He struggled to get out the words, but it was a challenge. “I don’t wear any pants! I don’t wear any pants! I DON’T WEAR ANY PANTS!!!”

SMACK!!!

“Who doesn’t wear any pants? Hmm? Nana doesn’t know anybody named ‘I,’ either. You better learn to talk correctly unless you want more of Nana’s hairbrush.”

CRACK!!!

The frantic seventh grader was near hysterics, but he did his best to maintain control. His very could easily depend on getting this horrible, evil woman to stop beating him.

“Baby doll doesn’t wear pants!” he squealed. He hated referring himself in the third person, almost as much as he hated calling himself “baby doll.” Saying it all in “baby talk” made it even worse!

“Baby doll doesn’t wear pants!” he squealed. “Baby doll doesn’t wear pants! Please, Nana … I said it! Baby doll doesn’t wear pants! Please, no more spanking … no more … spanking ….”

Despite his compliance, the succession of hits on Samuel’s pale pink posterior continued …

SNAP!!!

… all of them applied expertly and efficiently …

WHAP!!!

… one after another after another …

SLAP!!!

… at a deliciously slow but steady pace ....

WHACK!!!

… not too soft, not too many …

SMACK!!!

… but just enough …

CRACK!!!

… to unlock the floodgates …

THWACK!!!

… and trigger a flow of steady tears …

SNAP!!!

… and the delicious, melodious sound …

WHAP!!!

… of a helpless young boy’s weepy cry for mercy.

“I’m sorry, Nanaaaaa … *gasp!* ... I promise … I’m soooo sorryyyy. *gasp!* Please, no more spanking … *gasp!* ... I’ll be gooood … I promisssse … I’ll beeeee gooooood ….”

The beating was over for several minutes before Samuel knew it; he was too busy sobbing in agony to notice. But even after realizing it had come to an end, he still had to suffer through the fiery aftermath of such an expert application of that infernal hairbrush. One spanking a day from Old Lady Tully was enough to ruin your day; a second – especially with something like a hairbrush – was enough to ruin your week! The pain that burned his crimson-tinged skin was harsh and cruel and long-lasting; he knew from bitter experience that his poor, burning bottom and tender thighs would be bright red for the remainder of the night, and in all likelihood it would remain so for a long time, making it impossible for him to sit the next several days.

“It hurts, Nana,” the sobbing boy cried. “It hurts so bad ….”

“I know, baby doll,” chuckled the woman in the witch’s costume. She let her fingers linger over the raw red flesh before her and she licked her lips in malicious delight. “I’m sure it hurts you a lot worse than it hurts me!”

Samuel cringed to hear his babysitter’s mocking voice. He knew that any sympathy she gave was deceptive and hollow. That only made him feel worse and he couldn’t help but cry even more.

I wish she wasn’t always so mean to me, he thought as he wiped his eyes for the hundredth time that evening. It’s bad enough that she makes me go without pants all the time and then spanks me. Does she have to be such a bully, too?

In retrospect the horrified lad shouldn’t have been surprised at what happened; it was so obvious, not just in hindsight, but from the very beginning. Receiving the customary “warning spanking” was an inevitable fact of life in Mrs. Tully’s home … as unstoppable as the changes of the season or the rising of the sun or even the certainty of homework.

But Old Lady Tully had tricked him with her deceptive smiles and coddling ways; she’d lured her young victim into a state of blissful happiness that led to him letting down his guard and thinking that he might actually get away without any unwanted shenanigans. For that short while Samuel Oliver allowed himself to believe that things had changed … that life could be normal – whatever that was – in the little house at the end of the lane.

And now he was paying the price for his childlike trust. Funtime was over and the deranged witch of a woman was interested in the next phase of her plan, whatever that might be. Once again she rubbed her hands together and gave a very loud, very creepy witch-like laugh.

“Come here, my pretty sissy,” she cooed. “Let Nana make you feel all better ….”

Twelve year old Samuel felt his body being lifted up by his adopted grandmother and cradled for an instant in her strong arms. It always amazed him just how powerful she was; despite his "mature" age he always felt like a little child when she picked him up. He quickly found himself spun about on his captor’s immense lap so he was facing her nose to nose, chin to chin, looking her directly in the eye; adding to the creepiness, his aching legs were forced to spread wide around her rotund torso and he was pulled so close his frightened penis and balls were pressing up against her massive belly. If it wasn’t for the pain emitting from his aching bottom and legs he would have been embarrassed for his privates to be touching his babysitter’s body.

“Nana, please, my bottom … it still hurts ….”

“Oh, you poor, sweet thing,” the excited woman whispered. She wiped the contrite child’s face with a tissue, helping him blow his nose and clearing the tears from his eyes. “So sweet … so delicious ….”

For a moment Samuel thought his babysitter was going to let him down. But instead he noticed a gleam of gluttony light up his adopted grandmother’s expression, and he cringed to see her fat face close in on his own; he then felt her soft, warm lips press against his in a most inappropriate kiss. Before he could resist the tip of her tongue forced its way past his lips, penetrating deep into his mouth and nearly choking him.

“Mmmmph! … *gag* … Nana … mmmph … no- … *gag* … pleaf … *gasp!* … don’t-mmmph!”

This was not the first time Irma Tully had kissed our little hero in such a obsessive, selfish manner; indeed, this was the culmination of a habit she had developed since she first began babysitting him nearly six months before. Hardly a weekend would pass when she didn’t cover the poor boy with kisses from head to toe, putting her lips on his face, his eyes, his mouth … and other bits of his anatomy … amusing herself with the life-sized baby doll she’d managed to trap in her web of lies.

It didn’t matter to Irma that her kisses were inappropriate and unwanted; it was the forbidden nature of her relationship with this naïve, vulnerable child that drover her passion … and cruelty. And so the greedy witch held her defenseless prisoner against her bounteous breasts in an embrace worthy of a professional wrestler, making escape impossible. She then smeared her wet, drooling mouth against Samuel’s, her tongue driving deep into his throat, marking the poor boy as her exclusive plaything to tease and torment until she sated her voracious appetite.

Arms flailing about, a naked Samuel Oliver struggled to catch his breath under the unexpected assault from the wicked woman. This is not right, the surprised child thought to himself. He thought about the kisses he shared with Marlene Miller and how nice those were; it was probably the nicest, most exciting thing he’d ever experienced. Kissing Mrs. Tully was not the same. Not at all. Being kissed on the mouth by an adult woman, especially one that was so mean and cruel as his adopted grandmother, was creepy and weird; even when she made him … well, feel good … it felt wrong. And feeling her tongue raping his mouth and throat made him feel helpless, powerless … and enslaved.

Oddly enough, the odd twosome made a comical pair, a naked winged cupid caught in the clutches of a colossal, obese sorceress, her claw-like hands holding him fast, pawing his pale body at will as she inflicted a long, smothering, slobbery kiss against his fragile pink petal lips. Only when the weakened boy nearly passed out from asphyxiation did the deceptively loving babysitter relax her hold on him.

“Mmmm … that was delicious … just delectable …,” the old woman gaily cooed. She planted a series of kisses along the dazed lad’s neck and bare shoulder. “Nana just loves the taste of pretty little boys and their pretty little tears. They are so sweet and yummy and tasty ….”

Samuel winced as the fat woman leaned forward and pressed her tongue around his eyes and nose, licking up the salty tears and greedily smacking her old lady mouth. He managed to take a breath just as she moved back to his tender chafed lips and inflicted another suffocating, claustrophobic kiss against his mouth.

“Nana … pleaf! Can’t … mmmph! … breave! Nana … *gasp!* … plea-mmmmph! Can’t … *gasp!* … brea-mmmmph!!!!”

When she was done Irma Tully released her hold on her weary victim. She smiled to see the weak-kneed and dizzy Samuel struggle to stand up on his own power. She then brushed back her hair and repositioned the preposterously silly witch’s hat atop the blue beehive of hair on her head and she fluffed out the black satin and gauze dress that covered her corpulent figure.

The happy woman considered the exhausted boy before her, gazing upon him with a satisfied, vindicated smile. The shamed youth presented a chubby, infantile figure with a sad look in his face. From the teary eyes to the flushed, swollen lips to the silly miniature cupid wings that adorned his nude body, he was a pitiful sight, indeed; a pitiful sight, but one that pleased his cruel babysitter to no end.

She was particularly delighted to see the change in Samuel’s penis. Just a few moments ago it was shy and withdrawn and hiding in the folds of flesh between his chubby thighs; but for the little pink tip – his “pink pearl” – one might have thought the effeminate child was more girl than boy. But that was no longer the case. Now, after a naughty kissing session with his wicked babysitter, Samuel was now at full arousal and his once bashful organ was fiercely erect, standing up proudly, eager and ready for whatever adventure that was yet to come.

So to speak.

Irma Tully was a happy woman, happy beyond ecstatic! Gazing at the precious pink appendage, she clapped her hands and licked her lips with the enthusiasm and appetite of a little child presented with an ice cream cone. She fought to contain the rapture she felt knowing that this gorgeous, heavenly creature was hers to do with as she saw fit; and she had plenty of plans for him in the course of the evening … not to mention the days to come.

“Well, now, that was lovely, wasn’t it, baby doll?” the delighted woman in the witch costume said in a nonchalant though teasing manner. “Nothing like an appetizer before the main course. Now, how about let’s go downstairs and see to your guests. Won’t that be fun? Hmm? Hmmm? This is going to be the best Halloween ever, I promise!”

In response to his grandmother’s question young Samuel nodded his head. Beaten and defeated, he looked down at his naked body and wished he was a thousand miles away. For some reason he wondered what his father would say if he saw how he looked. It wouldn’t be good, that was for sure. He had a similar thought about his mother, but for some reason he imagined she might be more amused than alarmed. The same for Marlene and his friends at school; if they ever saw how stupid he looked, naked and in tears and with those stupid pink wings on his back, he’d be called the biggest sissy in town! Oh gosh! And what if they saw his stupid wiener sticking out like some sort of sicko pervert? They’d all really make fun of him then! His life would be so bad he might even have to move to Australia!

I wish I could go home, the worried lad lamented. I really wanna get out of here … but that’s not going to happen. Not until my mom comes to rescue me.

Samuel Oliver sighed. He looked down at his stupid erect penis and sighed again. He then rolled his eyes and looked up at the enormous wicked witch-like figure who smiled down so greedily, so happily at him.

Until she shows up I guess I just better do what Old Lady Tully says.

The burning sensation that radiated from his poor red bottom reminded him that there was nothing else he could do.

To be continued ….

(End of File)