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 �>�What Uncle Jack Did At Thanksgiving By Ewong

   Oh, man.  Where do I even begin?  Well I guess I should give an
introduction.  I -(TM)m Alice.  That -(TM)s all you should know because
everything I -(TM)m about to tell you is true and I don -(TM)t want you to
figure out who I am, ok?

   You see, my parents always invite our relatives over for Thanksgiving.
As a kid, I -(TM)ve always felt the day was just like that Norman Rockwell
painting.  Now that I -(TM)m a senior in high school, it feels more like an
excuse for people to gorge on food and sleep half the day away.  Not me of
course.  I have a figure to maintain, so I normally eat just a slice of
turkey (white meat) and a scoop of stuffing and mashed potatoes.  I don
-(TM)t even eat dessert.

   Anyways, my relatives are all younger than me.  My father is the oldest
of his siblings so my cousins range from my age to ten years old.  My aunts
and uncles are older than me, but only by fifteen years at the most.  This
makes them think they can identify with me rather than my father for some
reason.  On my mother -(TM)s side, she only has a brother that never
married.  He is my Uncle Jack.  He -(TM)s forty-five years old and gets
along with my other aunts and uncles just fine.

   Why am I telling you all this?  Well, Uncle Jack single-handedly ruined
my life forever.  I -(TM)m not sure how it happened, but I -(TM)ll tell you
what I can remember.

   The night before Thanksgiving, Uncle Jack arrived as happy as ever,
bearing gifts for everyone.  I got a new mp3 player while my parents got a
new blu ray player.  We thanked him before showing him to the guest room
that would be his until Sunday.  The night passed without any abnormal
activities.  Those started the following morning.

   He woke us all up at dawn, which none of us wanted to do, but since he
was our guest, we managed to oblige.  The rest of the family didn -(TM)t
take it too well, but they figured it was in the spirit of the holiday to
treat everyone like family.  He sat us down in the living room and
announced that he -(TM)d registered our family for the annual Thanksgiving
parade in town.  EVERYONE was shocked since the parade was today, and we
-(TM)d have to be there in less than an hour.  But that wasn -(TM)t the
biggest shock.

   We had to be in costume.  At first I figured we -(TM)d all be pilgrims
since we didn -(TM)t have a drop of native blood amongst us.  As Uncle Jack
handed my older relatives their pilgrim costumes, I thought I was safe, but
then I saw the brown leather and feathers being handed to my young cousins.
As everyone on either side of me changed, I wondered which side I -(TM)d be
on.  Uncle Jack walked up to me with a smile on his face and handed me an
Indian costume!

   He apologized, saying there had to be an equal amount of pilgrims and
natives and the natives had to be younger than the pilgrims.  I nearly died
when he showed me what I -(TM)d be wearing.  It was little more than a
leather bikini like the girl in that old movie with the dinosaurs.  I saw
that it had no place to conceal any underwear, which I thought was odd, but
had to go excuse myself to the restroom to put it on.  My uncle warned me
that we had to leave soon so I couldn -(TM)t take too long putting it on.

   As I closed the door behind me, I couldn -(TM)t believe I was being made
to wear this.  I hoped that if I just waited long enough, they -(TM)d leave
without me, but a part of me knew that the entire family was doing this so
I should too, especially being the oldest of the kids, I had to set a good
example.  I first took off my pajama pants and panties to don the
loincloth. Thankfully, the front and back panels were actually made of one
long strip so I -(TM)d have something covering my bits.  The front and back
were able to drape thanks to the way the waistband tied around it.  I had
to pull the strip between my legs and hold the ends up above my waist
before tying the waistband around my hips.  Once secured, I let go of the
strip and the ends fell to create the loincloth.  To my embarrassment, the
strip didn -(TM)t seem long enough to hide much since the loincloth came
down to just under the vital areas, which were at least covered by the
leather strip.  Finishing my outfit from the waist down, I pulled on the
moccasins and stood up.

   I had to take off my pajama top and put on the leather vest.  The darn
thing came down to just under my breasts and it wasn -(TM)t even able to
close completely!  Thankfully, it had a leather lace to tie it instead of
buttons or Velcro.  However, the result was that my breasts were pushed up
and together, creating a generous amount of cleavage that I wasn -(TM)t
comfortable with.  Since the vest didn -(TM)t close, a lot of my breasts
were on show, but not enough to make anyone but me blush.  At least the
fringes along the bottom of the vest helped to cover part of my bare belly,
but my midriff was still exposed.  The outfit was complete with a leather
headband with a few feathers sticking up.  Sighing in disbelief, I walked
out to show my family.

   My parents couldn -(TM)t believe what they saw, but nobody said
anything. I was hoping Uncle Jack would apologize for it being so revealing
and let me sit the parade out, but no such comment was made and we were
filing into the van before I could protest.  I sat next to my younger
cousins, Alex and April, who were twins and also the youngest of the lot at
ten years old.  They told me I looked pretty and I blushed, I -(TM)m sure.
They had their hair braided tin pigtails to make them look more like the
stereotypical native girls, and they offered to do the same for me.  I didn
-(TM)t have time to disagree before they got to work.  My mom quickly gave
us some face paint to sell the native look and before I knew it, we were at
the parade.

   The float we were to be sitting on was made to resemble the first
Thanksgiving.  A large table filled with (fake) food adorned with various
flowers and such made it look positively breathtaking.  The pilgrims sat on
one side and the natives on the other.  Since I was the oldest of the
natives, I was chosen to be the native leader, who would sit in the center,
opposite the pilgrim leader, who happened to be Uncle Jack.  As the rest of
the kids sat next to me, I realized they were wearing the same outfit as
me. I mean, EXACTLY the same.  Down to the size!  Uncle Jack had given me
the same costume as my ten-year-old cousins!  No wonder it was small on me.

   I was consoled by the fact that the table hid my lower half from view,
but then realized that since the pilgrims were seated in the front of the
float looking back, my backside would be visible to everyone as we rode
past.  I almost wanted to jump off the float and run all the way home.  But
with my family staring at me, I felt I had to just endure it.

   As the parade started, we were told to wave to the crowd.  I wasn -(TM)t
sure if it was a good idea with my outfit, but I waved as cheerfully as I
could to everyone we passed.  I heard a few gasps as we passed by people,
and I understood it must be because of my loincloth not really covering
much.  As time wore on, I realized my vest was becoming looser, so I looked
down and saw the lace was coming loose!  With every wave of my hand, I was
getting closer to exposing myself.  I brought my hand down so I could wave,
but not as energetically as before.  With my free hand, I held the vest to
hopefully stop the inevitable from happening during the parade.

   Once we got to the end of the route, I wanted to run as fast as I could
to the nearest restroom and fix my top.  However, as I got up, the leather
strip must have gotten snagged on the bench and began to tug the strip free
of the waistband.  With my luck, it was snagged right on the gusset so the
front and back began to pull free.  I immediately sat down and tried to
think of what to do.  I could try to pull the strip free and risk my top
failing, or I can save my top at the expense of the loincloth.  While I was
fretting about, a photographer from the local paper wanted to get a picture
of the loving family that volunteered for the parade.  As the pilgrims
lined up behind me, the natives were instructed to stand as well.  Of
course, I couldn -(TM)t in my outfit -(TM)s condition.  Uncle Jack, who was
right behind me, wouldn -(TM)t have any of it.  He figured I was just shy
because of my costume and demanded I stand with the family.

   Of course, I refused, but that didn -(TM)t go over well.  The next few
moments went by in slow motion.  I was seated, and then I felt his hands on
my wrists.  He began to pull me up, which caused the leather strip to
resume sliding away from the waistband.  His arms pulled my hands away from
my chest as I felt the loincloth fall away.  I closed my eyes un horror
until I heard a ripping sound and I looked down to see my bare breasts
spring out of my broken top.  As I looked up in surprise, I saw the flash
of the camera, and knew I was doomed.  I immediately broke free of my uncle
-(TM)s hands and ran away.  Of course, not knowing where to go while
covering my breasts and privates, it took me a few minutes to find a
port-o-john where I could lock myself inside.  My parents found me and my
dad gave me his coat to wear to the car.

   Thinking the worst was over, I went home knowing the newspaper couldn
-(TM)t print that photo.  Of course, I was proven wrong when just this
morning, a censored version of the photo was in the paper, along with a
list of my family -(TM)s names and of course my own.  They even had the
gall to put  -�(naked girl) -� next to my name in case anyone wanted to
know.  So, now I have to figure out what I -(TM)m going to do when school
begins Monday.  I -(TM)ve been toying with the idea of either running away
or faking my death.  Uncle Jack has offered to take me away to live with
him the next county over, but I think I -(TM)m going to decline.  At least
when I -(TM)m here I know I -(TM)ll be able to stay dressed!
   The End