Old 03-19-2011, 07:02 PM   #1
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Default Chores for the Boys

Greg looked at his cousins scornfully. He and his brother Paul had
arrived the previous evening to stay for a couple of weeks with their
Aunt Margaret and her two daughters, Susan and Sandra. Now there was
an argument about clearing up the breakfast dishes as Margaret had to
go to work, leaving the children to sort things out for themselves.

"Washing up is a girl's job," said Greg. "Anyway, Paul and I are here
on holiday, so why should we do the dishes?"

Susan's eyes blazed as she faced up to the boy who was three years
older than her 13 years, almost a foot taller and 60lbs heavier. She
wore a white crop top, which showed off her smoothly tanned stomach, a
navy blue mini-skirt which ended half way down her sturdy young
thighs, white calf length socks and trainers. Her blonde pony tail
flicked around her shoulders as, hands on hips, tiny breasts thrusting
forwards, she told the young man and his brother that they should do
their share of the household chores. Sandra, two years younger than
her sister, and dressed in the same way, nodded in agreement while
Paul, a well built fifteen year old, backed up his elder brother.

"You'll help while you're here," said Susan firmly, "or else..."

"Or else what?" scorned Greg. "What are you going to do? Beat us up?"
He smirked at his brother.

"Maybe," said Susan. She looked at her sister. "I think we could beat
them, don't you? They're only boys!"

"Easy," said Sandra, "but I expect they're too scared to fight us."
She went up to the fifteen year old, who was a good head and shoulders
taller than the girl, and stared up at him. "Too scared to fight,
aren't you? BOY!"

Paul wriggled uncomfortably under the tiny girl's gaze. "I'm not
scared of a little girl like you," he blustered. "I'd just be scared
of hurting you too much."

"Like this, you mean," said Sandra and kicked him lightly on the shin.

"Ouch!" he cried, "you little..."

"Hold it," commanded Greg. He looked at the girls. "If you really want
to fight us, then let's go outside. Winners don't do any chores,
O.K.?" He was quite confident he'd end this nonsense about boys doing
dishes and things once and for all. Maybe he'd just give the girl a
bit of a spanking and finish it. He'd like that. 'I expect she would
too,' he thought smugly.

"Right!" agreed Susan. "No holds barred. Winners rule, O.K.?"

Once outside, the girls removed their skirts and limbered up in their
dark blue cotton briefs. Though not fully developed, the girls had
trim figures with tanned, sturdy legs. Even at their ages they knew
their near nudity was having a disconcerting effect on their male
opponents and flaunted their bodies shamelessly.

Greg and Paul were well built. Greg especially was becoming heavily
muscled about the shoulders and upper arms, as the girls could see
when he took off his T-shirt. Well developed thighs protruded from his
beach shorts, and there were signs of muscle definition on his
stomach. Paul hadn't quite reached his brother's physique, but looked
a most formidable opponent for an eleven year old girl to tackle.

"Right," said Susan. "Let's fight!" And she stormed into her large,
male opponent, throwing punches at his head. Taken completely by
surprise, Greg raised his arms to protect himself from the girl's
onslaught and left himself wide open. With calm deliberation Susan
steadied herself by grasping the boy's upper arms with both hands,
then drove her knee savagely into Greg's unprotected balls.

The muscular young man folded up with a cry of male anguish, hands
diving for his searing testicles, and was sent reeling sideways as the
little girl smashed her foot into his descending face. Giving him no
respite and no chance to recover his wits, the female fury danced
after the reeling boy, slamming her feet and fists into his muscular
body with devastating speed. Greg crashed into the wall of the house
and covered up. His brain was reeling with pain and confusion. He was
being attacked by a girl half his size and he was actually cowering
from her.

He pulled himself together, straightened up and fired his balled fist
at the girl's pretty face. Susan easily ducked under his swing; then,
picking her spot, she buried her own small fist into the boy's balls.
Once, twice; then into his face as he howled with pain and doubled up
in agony. She grasped the boy's hair, held his head in position, then
brought her knee up with a vicious jerk and smashed it into the bridge
of his nose with a satisfying thud.

The muscular young man's legs gave way as he temporarily lost
consciousness, and he sprawled backwards onto the ground. Mercilessly,
the lithe young tomboy stepped into the V of the boy's spread-eagled
legs and stomped down into his cock with all her might. Greg's mouth
gawped in agony but no sound came out as his brain cut out the pain by
sending him completely unconscious. Susan took no time to celebrate
her triumph over her husky male opponent, but turned to help her
little sister.

She needn't have bothered. Sandra had attacked at the same instant as
her sister, launching a devastating kick into the shin she'd lightly
tapped before. Then, as the boy cried out in pain, she had danced
nimbly to one side, slid her hand under his buttocks, and grasped the
young man's dangling balls through the thin cotton of his beach
shorts. Gleefully the girl pulled the helpless boy backwards round the
lawn. The eleven year old girl had total control over the boy, who had
to move in the direction she pulled or suffer the agony of having his
balls squashed by her strong little fingers.

Eventually, the boy stumbled. Sandra automatically tightened her grip
to stop him dragging her down with him, and squeezed. The pain in the
boy's balls was excruciating. He screamed in agony as he tried to pry
the girl's fingers loose, but she pulled him back and forced the boy
to stagger backwards across the lawn once more.

'Time to finish him off,' thought Sandra. She stopped, much to the
relief of her helpless victim. "Get down on your hands and knees,"
ordered the young vixen, giving his tortures testicles an encouraging
squeeze. Tentatively the boy obeyed, sobbing with pain and the shame
of being forced to take orders from a chit of a girl four years
younger than him. Sandra bent down with him, maintaining her grip on
his aching testicles. As soon as her male cousin was on all fours the
girl, quick as a cat, let go with her hand and swung her foot into the
boy's balls with all her might. Paul's whole body convulsed in agony,
then he sprawled unconscious on the lawn.

Exultantly the girls exchanged high fives. "Let's strip them," said
Susan, and the girls removed the shorts and trainers from the hapless
young men, finishing just as their defeated cousins started to regain

The girls stood over their respective adversaries, the victorious
little girls standing triumphantly over the naked bodies of their
large male opponents. Opponents whom the girls had so easily defeated
in combat. Yet victory was not enough. The girls wanted to destroy the
boys as fighters, to break them both physically and mentally so that
they'd never challenge the girls' superiority again.

Greg came round to discover Susan in the process of turning him over.
She held his right wrist, and, using the length of the boy's arm as a
lever, twisted his limb in a clockwise direction. Groggily, the young
man tried to resist the girl's pressure, but she had too much leverage
for him. To avoid the awful pain she inflicted on his arm, the boy
flopped over onto his stomach, crying out in frustration at yet
another defeat at the hands of the girl. Susan jerked her victim's arm
up behind his back, still twisting, forcing the young man's powerful
arm to bend to her will. Greg screamed as he felt his ligaments tear
as his limb was destroyed by the terrible little tormentress.

Calmly Susan let go the boy's useless arm and reached under his
buttocks to grasp hold of his balls. "Put your other arm behind your
back," she ordered, applying pressure to the boy's aching testicles.
Tears streaming down his face, the boy gave in and let the vicious
young tomboy have his good arm to destroy. His arms useless, Susan
made him roll onto his back and stood over her supine victim, legs
apart, hands on hips, looking down on the powerfully muscled body of
the shattered young man she'd defeated, marveling at the ease of her

Sandra had immobilized her victim by the simple process of lashing his
wrists together with the laces from his captured trainers. He too was
on his back, and the girl was crouched between his spread legs
fondling his damaged balls with her silky little fingers, watching
with wonder as his cock swelled up out of its mound of pubic hair and
stretched upwards towards the boy's stomach. The eleven year old girl
had only just reached the beginning of puberty and had never seen a
naked male before. Now she was experiencing the excitement of smashing
a powerful young man to ignominious defeat in physical combat, then
watching him respond sexually to her treatment of his balls. She had
found instinctively that, by controlling a male's testicles, she had
the choice of inflicting either extreme pain or extreme pleasure on
her victim. She exulted in the power she had over the defeated boy and
wanted more.

"Don't play with him," Susan whispered into her sister's ear. "Destroy
him. Break him so he'll never want to tangle with you again. Wreck his
arms, then he won't be able to fight for ages, and you'll have

Obeying her sister, Sandra turned Paul onto his stomach. "Over you go,
big cousin," she purred. "I'm just going to work on your lovely,
strong arms for a while. I'll get back to your cock later." She mussed
his hair playfully. "You'll like that, won't you?"

Then she drove her cousin's arms up behind his back with all her
strength until he screamed in agony and begged her to stop as his
tears flowed into the lawn. When she was sure she'd rendered the boy's
arms useless, Sandra untied his wrists, turned him over onto his back
and stood over him as sobs wracked the once proud boy's shattered
body. To her amazement, his cock still stood up in an enormous

She flicked the boy's cock with her foot. "You like being beaten up by
a little girl, don't you, cousin?" she said. "Which is good because I
like beating you up and I'm going to beat you up lots and lots."

Greg also had a huge hard-on. He gazed up, through his tears at the
slender but shapely body of the girl who'd smashed him to defeat and
felt a surge of fear and excitement he'd never experienced before.
Here he was, a powerful young male warrior lying in tears at the feet
of a young girl, three years his junior and half his size. And the
sight of her standing proudly over him, tanned legs wide apart, hands
on hips, twanged his libido and raised his cock in tribute to her

Susan lowered herself onto the boy's barrel like chest and began
smacking his face backwards and forwards. Tiring of that, she smashed
a couple of punches into his face with her tiny fist until he begged
her to stop. She continued until she ensured the boy's black eyes and
bloody nose would show the pounding she'd given him for a long time to
come, then she rose lithely from his whimpering frame and kicked his
legs wide apart.

Sandra was following her sister's lead, and completed the pounding of
Paul's tear-stained face at the same time as Susan stood up. Sandra
hit Paul's face a couple of times more, then got to her feet. Both
boys were sobbing uncontrollably as they lay spread-eagled at the feet
of their girl conquerors.

"Right, boys," announced Susan, in a voice which brooked no
disobedience, "you are now going to show us girls how you nicely you
wank yourselves off."

"Oh, lovely!" Sandra shuddered with pleasure at the thought of the
muscular boys having to degrade themselves in front of the slender
little girls. "Grab your cocks, boys, and WANK!"

Terrified, their spirits broken by the merciless young girls who had
beaten them, the boys complied. In no time at all their powerful male
bodies spasmed with climax and they pumped their semen into the air in
great spurting globules.

The girls hugged each other with delight, then stepped into the Vs
formed by the twitching boys' legs, drew back their own shapely tanned
limbs and smashed their feet into the boys' dangling balls. As their
victims screamed in pain and despair and writhed in agony on the lawn,
the girls ran giggling and laughing into the house, leaving the boys
broken and crying, smashed to ignominious defeat by a couple of little
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Old 03-19-2011, 07:03 PM   #2
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Default Part 2

It was now two days since the brothers, Greg and Paul, had been beaten
into submission by their young girl cousins, Sandra and Susan. When
the girls' mother had come home from work that evening, she had been
shocked at the state of her nephews' faces and had thought they had
been fighting each other. "Ah well," she had said, "Boys will be boys.
You must have had an awful fight by the state of your faces."

As the boys shuffled with embarrassment, Susan had told her mum that
it was the girls who had caused the damage to the boys' faces. "We had
to teach them a lesson," she said, "because they wouldn't help with
the dishes."

"I see." The girls' mum had smiled to herself, inwardly thrilled that
her young daughters had challenged and beaten two older, bigger boys.
She had taught them to stick up for themselves from an early age and
was proud of the girls' success against stronger males. She had
decided to let the youngsters sort it out for themselves.

Greg was steaming. He was fed up being bossed about by the younger
girls. He was totally humiliated by having to strip naked as soon as
the girls' mother went to work so the sisters could grab his balls and
cock any time they felt like it. After the hammering Susan had given
him, Greg had been too scared to do anything about it. Now he was
trying to rationalize the situation. The only way he'd been beaten by
the girl, he reasoned, was because she'd got in first and kicked him
in the balls. To Greg this was foul play and he resolved to restore
the position of male dominance as soon as he could by attacking the 11
year old Sandra. Once she was out of the way, then he and Paul could
sort out Susan and make both girls sorry they'd ever picked a fight
with a couple of boys.

His chance came when he found himself alone with Sandra, who was
making sure he was properly picking up fallen leaves from the lawn. He
was still a bit stiff from his fight with Susan, and couldn't move as
fluently as he would have liked because of the pain in his balls. His
arms were partially disabled by the awful wrenching inflicted by the
girl, yet he knew he ought to be able to thrash her 11 year old
sister, especially if he took her by surprise. Hell, he was five years
older, over a foot taller and 50 lbs. heavier. He had a powerful,
muscular body, which made the lithe little girl look frail. He made
his move.

Sandra sensed the menace in the previously cowed young male, as he
came towards her with a handful of leaves. And when he dropped his
load and swung at the girl's head she was already dodging in alarm.
Greg's fist missed her head and caught her a glancing blow on the
shoulder, sending the girl reeling. Had Greg been fully fit he could
have followed up and finished what he'd started there and then.
However, he was stiff and sore, and Sandra had the beautifully
balanced body of a talented gymnast. Before the lumbering young man
could inflict more damage, the girl was skipping out of reach.

Sandra quickly weighed up the situation as she dodged the clumsy
attack of her huge male adversary. She could easily run indoors and
fetch Susan, or even call out for her. However, the thought of
tangling with the massively muscled Greg was marvelously exciting. She
had thoroughly enjoyed beating up Greg's brother Paul. She wanted to
repeat the wonderful melting of her insides which occurred when she
was hitting the boy mercilessly with her fists, then making him wank
himself off in front of her. Her eyes gleamed at the thought of doing
to same to the much larger Greg. He would really be a conquest for an
eleven year old girl! She decided to fight him.

Greg cursed himself for missing the opportunity of landing a killer
punch on the girl, but was relieved that she hadn't called for her
sister. No matter how injured he was, he MUST be able to beat an
eleven year old slip of a girl in a fight. One solid punch would
flatten her. The problem, as Greg found out, was landing the punch!
The ligaments in both of his powerfully muscled shoulders were badly
torn where Susan had wrenched his arms up behind his back, and his
gait was less than threatening as he tried to keep his still tender
balls from brushing against the insides of his massive thighs. Every
move he made was easily avoided by the supple girl.

Sandra looked extremely fragile in her short, cotton, summer dress,
which only just reached the top of the tanned curves of her
developing, young thighs, and which bulged only slightly under the
pressure of recently formed, ripening breasts. Her feet, clad in calf
length white socks and white sneakers, twinkled as she danced away
from each attack, pony tail flying, dress whirling to reveal the
crotch of her white briefs as she spun out of reach.

Greg was beginning to labor. The girl was letting him get close, then
making him miss with everything he threw at her. She could see the
frustration in his eyes as the nubile young girl and the solidly
muscled boy silently maneuvered for supremacy. As he gradually slowed
up, Sandra decided it was time to attack.

At first the girl simply countered the boy's swings with crisp little
punches as far up his body as she could comfortably reach, largely
ineffective on the powerful torso of the male fighter but causing him
to automatically try to block her blows with his arms. Then, ducking
under yet another ponderous male punch, she feinted to his face and
drove her tiny fist with all her might under the boy's guard into the
his bobbing balls. Greg's mouth flew open as he howled his agony. His
hands shot down to grasp his tortured testicles and his mighty body
slouched automatically into a cataleptic crouch.

Having brought the boy down to what she considered to be a manageable
height, the dainty little tomboy swung her smoothly tanned leg in a
wide arc and smashed her foot into the young man's exposed throat. As
his hands went to protect the new source of pain, the girl gleefully
swung her leg once more and drove her tiny instep into the boy's
groin, smashing his cock and balls with devastating effect.

Howling in agony, the boy collapsed to his knees, head hanging,
clutching his balls, senses swimming as waves of pain surged like an
incoming tide through his nerves to his brain. He hardly knew what was
happening as the girl reached between his legs and pulled his right
hand from his balls by bending back his little finger until he was
forced to let go.

Continuing the pressure, the girl pulled his heavily muscled arm round
behind his back. Transferring her grip to his wrist and needing both
her hands to maneuver his mighty limb, she twisted his arm upwards
until it was pointing straight back and level with his shoulder. Then
she placed her foot between the boy's shoulder blades and pulled with
all her strength.

The pain in his shoulder somehow helped Greg to clear his brain. He
was once more suffering defeat at the hands of a frail little female.
He had to do something, and he made a courageous effort to escape from
the girl's painful hold. Instead of trying to pull against her, he
pushed all the pain he was suffering to the back of his mind and
desperately twisted his huge torso towards his antagonist, forcing his
arm to swing from his damaged shoulder at the same time.

With a cry of surprise, Sandra was sent sprawling across the lawn as
the powerful boy broke her hold. She was on her feet in a flash,
scrambling backwards to take up a fighting crouch, a determined look
on her pretty young face, ready to defend herself. But she needn't
have worried. Greg was in no condition to follow up his success. He
was painfully climbing to his feet, clutching his aching balls with
one hand, the other held out to ward off any attack from the girl.

"Go get him, girl!" Attracted by the screams, Susan had come to watch
the fight. Paul, whom she'd brought with her, said nothing. One of the
girl's slender arms was slanted across the boy's stomach, her hand
disappearing into his crotch where she cupped his balls with her silky
fingers, holding him helpless in her grasp. Paul could not believe
that his massively powerful big brother was being beaten up by a tiny
eleven year old girl. It simply wasn't conceivable. True, the girls
had beaten the boys a couple of days before, but Paul was convinced
they'd only won by kicking himself and his brother in the balls before
the boys had been ready to fight. Surely no mere girl could beat Greg
in a fair fight; yet here he was, struggling against the tiny preteen

The girl moved in smoothly to meet the boy's tentative advance, a
resolute young female fighter determined to destroy her mighty male
opponent. She knew she needed to attack his weak spots, and she knew
that his balls were the weakest spot of all. If only she could strike
his testicles one more time, she was sure she could finish him off! Or
maybe his balls weren't his weakest point, maybe, she thought, with
the instinctive female knowledge of male psychology, it lay somewhere
else, in his ego.

She stopped her advance and stood there, legs apart, hands on hips, a
smile on her pretty face as she tossed her head. "How do you like
being beaten up by a little girl, man child?" she sneered. "How do you
like having your cock being kicked by a girl? How do like your big,
dangly balls being ....ah!"

Mad with fury, Greg lashed out with his foot at the taunting young
female. This was just what she'd been hoping for. Sinuously swaying
inside his kick, the girl coiled her left arm round the boy's right
knee and trapped his swinging leg against her slender waist. He was
momentarily stranded on one leg, arms flailing wildly to try to keep
his balance, his genitals dangling invitingly, totally exposed to
attack by the perfectly balanced girl fighter.

With almost lazy grace, the eleven year old girl steadied herself
against the boy's muscular inner thigh, then brought her knee smoothly
upwards into the boy's balls with a devastating surge of power. Even
as the howl of awful agony sprang from his lips, the girl, keeping
hold of his suspended leg, repeated her deadly strike, driving her
knee back into the boy's mangled balls again and then once more before
heaving upwards on his captured leg and sending his huge body plunging
backwards to collapse into a fetal ball of sobbing male anguish.

Callously, the girl began to kick the defenseless boy's curled body,
driving her feet into every exposed part of his frame that she could
reach. As his senses swam from the beating she was giving him he
sprawled limply on the lawn, offering no resistance to the girl's
assault. He scarcely knew what was happening when she went to work on
his already damaged arms. Taking each one in turn, the girl twisted
the boy's muscle laden limbs up behind his back and wrenched them
until he screamed. She used all her strength to lift his right leg up
off the ground and push it back towards the boy's chest, then she
threw all her weight on it, tearing the hamstring as he drifted into
merciful unconsciousness.

Paul was aghast at seeing his big, strong brother being destroyed by
the tiny girl. He couldn't believe his eyes as the slender young
female moved the boy's flaccid cock to one side so she could stand
over the beautifully muscled body of her defeated male victim, arms
raised in victory with her foot on his battered balls. He was also
aghast to realize that his own cock was less than flaccid and that the
spectacle of a girl beating up a larger boy was sexually exciting for
him. Susan's fingers closed round his swelling member.

As Greg came round, Sandra leant over the whimpering boy's body and
hauled his head up by the hair. "Get on your knees, sonny boy," she
ordered. Totally subdued, his will broken, the muscular young man
fearfully obeyed the orders of the girl who had beaten him. With great
difficulty he got into position and knelt before her, trembling with
fear, sobs wracking his beautifully sculpted male body as he looked up
beseechingly into the girl's wide brown eyes, begging her to stop
hurting him.

Sandra was exultant. To have this magnificent male animal on his knees
before her begging for mercy was almost too good. She was heady with
excitement. She pushed him onto his back with an unceremonious thud
and took off her briefs. She lowered her crotch over his face, with
her knees behind his shoulders, and facing towards his feet. She
stretched her lithe young body upwards, leaning back to open herself
to his tongue and ordered him to lick. The sexy young girl child
moaned with pleasure as she experienced her first orgasms brought on
by a defeated male. Climax after climax exploded in her nubile young
body as the boy was forced to service her needs.

Susan's silky hand on his cock and the sight of Sandra queening Greg
was too much for Paul. He could not contain himself and came in great
heaving gasps. Almost before his sperm hit the ground, Susan spun him
round to face her. "I did not give you permission to wank, boy!" she
said quietly, then smashed her knee up between the boy's thighs into
his still taut balls with ferocious accuracy. Paul collapsed in a heap
at the feet, of the dynamic young ballbusting girl.

Sandra was now leaning over Greg's chest, teasing his cock into life
until it stretched hungrily towards the slabs of muscle defined on the
young man's stomach. Languidly, the girl rose to her feet and strolled
into position between the boy's spread legs. "You can now wank
yourself off in tribute to the girl who's beaten you."

She loved it when he spurted, and made him wank again. Once more she
teased the boy's aching cock into an erection and forced him to milk
himself dry. "Good boy," she crooned, "now just open you legs a little
bit further so the little girl can see your nice big balls a bit
better. That's lovely," she praised as the terrified boy complied.
"Now I'm just going to give you one final kick in the balls, unless,
of course, you beg for mercy really nicely."

She drew back her foot. Desperately, the boy began to beg for mercy
from the chit of a girl who had reduced him to a whimpering wreck. His
hands went to cover his threatened balls, but the girl ordered him to
let go and spread his arms wide on the lawn. He began to cry as he
realized she was going to ignore his pleas, tensing with dreadful
anticipation of the punishment to come... And his cock rose. He had no
control over it. Despite the hammering it had taken, it surged upwards
in an enormous erection.

Sandra watched his cock grow in amazement, then, shrugging
philosophically, drew back her shapely young leg and smashed her foot
into the boy's tautened balls. Greg screamed, his body jerked off the
ground as his muscles spasmed, then he lay still, unconscious, smashed
to total defeat by an eleven year old girl!

Disdainfully, the petite young girl kicked the beaten boy in the ribs
as she and her sister went off into the house for a refreshing drink,
leaving the bodies of the once powerful young men sprawled in defeat
on the lawn... defeated so comprehensively that they'd never challenge
their young girl cousins again.

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Old 03-19-2011, 07:05 PM   #3
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Default Sequel

It was four days since the boys sustained their second defeat at
the hands of their young girl cousins. There was no more thought
of turning the tables. The boys were convinced beyond doubt of the
girls' superiority, and meekly did everything they were ordered to
do by Susan and Sandra. If any shred of male ego remained in the
boys, it was the rationalisation that somehow their young cousins
must be uniquely superior examples of girlhood, and that they were
unlikely to experience such a defeat at the hands of any other
girl. But Susan and Sandra soon deprived them of even this last
poor vestige of male pride.

It was a fine summer's morning, and Greg was trimming the grass
with a manicure scissors, while Paul was touching up a window sill
with a fine artist's paintbrush. Sandra, hands on her hips, was
supervising the work with painstaking care, being sure that her boy
slaves didn't miss a blade of unkempt grass or a speck of bare
wood. Suddenly, two bicycles turned up the driveway, and two young
girls speedily dismounted from the bikes, which they let fall on
the grass. Both of the girls were dressed alike - wearing tight
navy-blue shorts, white sweat socks that came up to the bottom of
their calves, and light blue crop tops that showed off their flat
and toned tummies. Sandra commanded her male cousins to stop their
work, and introduced them to the girls.

The first girl was Kim, a well-tanned 10-year-old with short blonde
hair and blue eyes. Sandra made a point of noting that she was
4'8" tall and weighed a mere 75 pounds. The girl accompanying her
turned out to be her younger sister Kristy, a 9-year-old with short
medium-brown hair and green eyes, who stood just 4'6" and weighed
only 67 pounds. The boys couldn't help but notice that both of the
girls, while trim and lithe, had well-toned legs that showed some
muscle in the calves and thighs. Sandra also made a point of
mentioning that they were gymnasts.

The reason for all this detail soon became clear. Sandra turned to
her male cousins and said "Susan and I think we've been working you
boys too hard, so we decided to let you have a little fun. And
that fun is, the two of you are going to fight Kim and Kristy,
right now!" Hearing this, the boys gasped. Kim barely came up to
the middle of Greg's chest, while Kristy stood at about the same
level compared to Paul. Considering just their relative sizes, the
idea of the 75-pound Kim successfully fighting the 170-pound Greg,
or the 67-pound Kristy overcoming 150-pound Paul, seemed too
ludicrous for words. And yet Sandra, who weighed a mere 91 pounds,
had easily dispatched both boys. In the boys' minds, mixed with
the hope of finally being able to win a fight with a girl was an
element of fear - the fear, based on their recent defeats at the
hands of their two girl cousins, that even these tiny girls might
prove too much for them to handle. But it didn't really matter
what they hoped or feared, because the boys had no choice but to
fight Kim and Kristy. That is what Sandra ordered them to do, and
that is what they had to do.

The boys were wearing beach shorts, and were shirtless in the warm
summer air. Kim and Kristy took off their trainers, and ordered
the boys to remove their own shoes as well. Both pairs of
contestants now stood facing each other in their shorts and white
sweat socks, with the girls also wearing their little crop tops.
For a change of pace, Sandra and Susan brought out four pairs of
boxing gloves, which the boys and girls quickly donned. Sandra
announced that the rules were that the combatants could use their
feet as well as their arms - sort of like kickboxing - but that an
opponent could not be struck when down. Sandra also stipulated
that a standing opponent could be hit or kicked in any part of the
body, without restriction, and that the fight would be continuous,
without rounds, until an opponent was either knocked out or
submitted. Sandra then motioned the contestants to walk over to
the grassy area by the side of the garage, about 20 feet by 20, and
said that the fight had to take place entirely within that area.
After giving those instructions, Sandra went in the house to get
Susan, so that she could also watch the fun. When Sandra and Susan
came out, Susan told the two girls to face the boys about six feet
apart, and said "On my mark, begin to fight, now!"

As he stood in front of Kim, Greg began the fight by consciously
flexing the pectorals of his magnificently-muscled male body to
intimidate the little girl. The well-built Paul also did some
muscle-flexing of his own as he faced off Kristy, hoping to
undermine the confidence of his little preteen opponent. The boys
should have saved themselves the trouble. Far from being scared
off by this display, the girls saw an opportunity in the boys'
posturing to show them what little girl gymnasts could do. Using a
maneuver that they had obviously practiced before, as if on signal,
both young girls bounded forward together and drop-kicked each of
the boys in the chest. As the girls agilely landed on the ground,
both boys went reeling backwards, falling backwards on the grass.
In a trice, the girls were back up on their feet, waiting for their
stunned male opponents to get up. Sandra started to count to ten.

Although weakened considerably by the surprise dropkicks, the boys
managed - though just barely - to avoid being knocked out at the
very beginning of the fight. Greg made it to his feet by the count
of seven, and Paul by the count of eight. The girls were waiting
for them. Bobbing and weaving, Kim started throwing punches at
Greg's body, while Kristy quickly delivered a straightleg kick to
Paul's stomach. Enraged, the two much larger boys charged at the
girls in front of them, trying to land a knockout blow on the
little tormentresses. But the girls, who were much quicker, easily
spun out of reach, leaving the teenage boys to throw punches at the
air where the girls had been just a split second before. The boys
kept trying to corner the girls and cut them off. The girls, with
their superior speed and agility, easily evaded them. The closest
Greg came to hitting Kim was a roundhouse right which she ducked to
avoid, and the punch went sailing in an arc over her head.

As the boys chased them around the grassy arena, the girls would
occasionally strike back, darting inside to land a quick punch or
two on a boy's stomach, or to deliver a quick, snapping kick to a
male torso. When this happened, the boy would temporarily halt his
advance and put his guard up, which served as a visible admission
that the girls' blows were having some effect. After about five
minutes, the boys were growing frustrated with their futile tactics
and were beginning to tire and slow down, while the girls seemed as
fresh and agile as ever. Ever so slightly, the pace of the fight
now began to change. Greg and Paul were no longer advancing so
much, while Kim and Kristy began to take the offensive more often,
and when they did so, to fight inside for longer periods of time.
Getting under Greg's guard, Kim delivered a succession of sharp
punches to his body, followed by a kick which landed the instep of
her right foot hard on his ribs with an audible thwack. A
surprised expression came over Greg's face, and instead of lunging
at her, he backed up a step. Meanwhile, Kristy connected with a
high kick to Paul's midsection, followed by a charging attack that
saw her deliver a flurry of short, hard punches to the same target,
eliciting an "uumph" from Paul. He too was stopped dead in his
tracks, and began to back off.

Several more minutes passed, and now the girls were taking the
fight home to the boys, attacking more frequently and putting the
boys on the defensive. Kristy threw several straight kicks at
Paul's right thigh, and they clearly hurt - at one point he
staggered. His ponderous attempts to kick back were so slow that
his little gymnast opponent had no trouble evading them. Kim also
used her feet as a weapon, preferring lightning-fast straight kicks
that buried her little foot in Greg's stomach, followed by a
blizzard of rapid body punches. Using these tactics, the girls
slowly began backing the boys up against the side of the garage -
the same strategy that the boys had tried unsuccessfully to use
against the girls. Within a few more minutes the boys, now clearly
fatigued, and breathing heavily, found themselves with their backs
literally to the wall - the garage wall.

At that point, the girls changed their tactics. Instead of hit-
and-run tactics, and attacks followed by agile withdrawals, the
girls began to duke it out with the boys, all-out. Kim threw punch
after punch at Greg's midsection, while Kristy did the same with
Paul. Backed up against the garage wall, the tired boys had no
alternative but to fight it out - something they had been trying to
do from the very beginning. But the results were not what the boys
had been expecting. By now the boys had run out of both steam and
breath, while the girls seemed to have an inexhaustible stamina.
As they absorbed punch after punch from the little girls' fists,
the boys began to grow astonished at the power of the girls'
punches. Apparently, all of their gymnastics training had given
these young kids some amazing upper-body strength for their age and
size. Coupled with that power, the girls' short height was proving
to be an advantage rather than a disadvantage. Aiming at the boys'
midsections, the girls could throw punches straight out from the
shoulder, with their whole bodies behind each punch, and meanwhile
keep their guards up in front of their faces, while the boys could
only retaliate by punching from about waist level, which
dramatically reduced the force of their blows. Also, all the boys
could aim for were the small targets of the girls' faces - their
stomachs were too low to hit - and the girls' gloves picked off
almost all of the boys' punches, which weren't all that potent
anyway. On the other hand, the boys' stomachs were proving too big
a target for them to cover completely, and more and more of the
girls' hard punches were getting through.

Although the rules permitted punches and kicks to any part of the
body, the girls surprisingly avoided a "busting" attack on the
vulnerable boys, whom the girls could have finished off at any time
had they chosen to use those tactics. Once in a while, though, Kim
or Kristy would feint as if she were about to let loose a short
uppercut or kick to the vitals of her much larger male opponent.
This always caused the boy, in an instinctive reaction, to drop his
gloves and cover his most vulnerable parts, and when he did so, his
girl opponent would take advantage of the opening to land a
powerful punch or kick to his stomach. It soon became apparent
that the girls wanted to win this fight without taking advantage of
the inherent weakness of the male sex, so that the boys would have
no excuse for the defeat that was clearly coming.

The boys were rapidly weakening under the girls' punching
onslaught, and as they weakened, their once taut and muscular
midsections began to grow slack and less able to withstand a punch.
But the girls, conditioned by daily hours of rigorous gymnastics
training, were able to maintain both the force and rapidity of
their punches without letup. In combination after combination,
sometimes ten or more punches in a row, their little gloved fists
buried themselves in the torsos of the much bigger teenage boys,
who began to sag noticeably as they found themselves unable to
compete with the punching power of their preteen assailants. Every
so often, too, a muscular little leg shot out and a girl's small
foot buried itself in a boy's stomach, or her little instep smashed
into his ribs. Although the boys tried to retaliate, their kicks
were ponderous and slow, and the girls easily avoided or blocked
them. Trapped against the garage wall, the boys several times
desperately tried to force the girls backward so as to gain some
maneuvering room, but were always driven back by the punches and
kicks of the two lithe preteen tomboys. By now it was clear to
Susan and Sandra, and also to Greg and Paul, that the girls were
winning the fight.

Meanwhile, the postman came by to drop the mail by the back door,
and as he walked over to Susan to hand her the mail, he gaped wide-
eyed at the battle that was going on by the side of the garage.
Fumbling in his mail sack, he handed the letters to Susan, one-by-
one, taking much more time than he usually did to locate the mail.
It didn't help matters much that his glance was riveted on the
battle of the sexes, which meant that he was barely looking at the
contents of his mail sack. Finally, the postman gave Susan the
last piece of mail, and she testily gave him a gentle push back
down the walk, telling him to mind his own business. Then Susan
nonchalantly looked over the mail until she found the one thing she
had been awaiting. It was the site FAQ for Diana The Valkyrie's
website. [As to why Susan should have chosen to receive this item
by snailmail instead of downloading it, I can only offer the lame
explanation that the hand-delivery better fit my story line and
that the English are known to be a bit eccentric.]

Apparently used to seeing boys get beaten by much younger girls,
Susan perused Diana's site FAQ while nonchalantly glancing up every
now and then to watch the fight. Eleven-year-old Sandra, however,
was watching the fight with rapt attention, and it was certainly
worth watching. After about 20 minutes of unrelenting battle, the
young preteen girls had punched the much larger teenage boys into a
state of near collapse. Trapped against the garage wall, the boys
had absorbed literally hundreds of hard body punches and dozens of
kicks, and their once beautifully-muscled male bodies were now
slack and soft, incapable of offering much resistance to the
punches of the preteen girls. Meanwhile, the girls continued to
punch away with unrelenting power, looking like they could go on
doing it at the same pace for hours. By now, the boys could
retaliate only with feeble, pawing punches, and the girls,
contemptuous of the boys' rapidly waning strength, would
deliberately let down their guard on occasion and allow the boys to
connect, just so they could laugh in their faces and jeer at them,
calling them weaklings.
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Old 03-19-2011, 07:06 PM   #4
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Default Sequel Continued

The moment of truth had come. The 16-year-old Greg was slumped
against the garage wall, his hands drooping at his sides, his
stomach now unprotected, while 10-year-old Kim continued to pepper
him with body blows. The 15-year-old Paul, also unable to hold his
guard up, was likewise helpless in the face of tiny 9-year-old

Kristy, who stood in front of him, taunting the much larger boy
whom she had punched into a state of helplessness, and punctuating
her taunts with hard rights to Paul's stomach. Based on past
experience with Susan and Sandra, both boys knew what to expect
next, and they instinctively put their boxing gloves in front of
their crotches, hoping to protect themselves from the final blow to
their vitals that would finish them off. On their part, gloating
at the helplessness of the much larger boys, and having
conclusively demonstrated their superiority, Kim and Kristy
appeared to have decided that it was finally time to "bust" the
boys into oblivion. By now clearly stronger than the boys, the two
girls easily pried the boys' hands apart and away from their
groins. Pressing the boys' gloved hands against the wall so as to
leave room for a clean shot, Kim and Kristy steadied themselves in
front of the boys and prepared to deliver the coup-de-grace.

Suddenly, Susan walked up and tapped Kim on the shoulder. In her
hand, she held a copy of Diana's website FAQ, and she showed
something in it to Kim. Although their conversation was in
whispers, Greg heard Susan mention the word "borderline" and the
phrase "probably not," and saw Kim nod her head in reluctant
agreement. The next thing he knew, Kim put her knee down and so
did Kristy, and instead of busting the boys, the girls finished
them off cleanly with their fists. Standing in front of the by now
helpless Greg, Kim peppered him with a tremendous combination of
body punches - six, ten, a dozen - and the 16-year-old Greg slid
down the garage wall to end up lying helplessly on his back at the
feet of his little 10-year-old conqueror. Facing Paul, tiny Kristy
stood on the balls of her little white-sweat-sock-clad feet and
threw a left and then a right to the jaw of the boy standing
unsteadily in front of her. Paul's knees buckled, and the 15-year-
old boy fell to the ground at the feet of the 9-year-old girl,
spread-eagled on his face.

The rules said that a victory had to be by knockout or submission,
and now the girls' victory would clearly be official. As Sandra
began the count, Greg just lay there on his back, unable to make
any effort to get up, while Paul lay inertly on his face, not
moving a muscle. As the count reached ten, the boys were still
flat on the ground, lying helpless and defeated at the hands of
girls less than half their weight and six years their junior.
Laughing at the boys, each of the tiny preteen tomboys placed a
lithe but muscular leg on the opponent she had so convincingly
defeated, doing a little muscle pose while grinning from ear-to-
ear. And they had a lot to grin about. Muscular-looking teenage
boys, who each outweighed his little girl opponent by over 80
pounds, had succumbed in fair combat to the preteen girls' punching
power and stamina.

But the girls weren't through yet. They took off their boxing
gloves and stripped the boys of theirs as well. Then, each one
grabbing her helpless male opponent by the hair, they dragged the
boys along in a crouching position and pulled them out to the front
lawn. Throwing the defeated boys face down on the lawn, the girls
took the once-strong boys' arms and twisted them behind their backs
in a painful hammerlock. Just then, a group of girls and boys
walked past, coming back from the nearby swimming pool, and they
gathered on the lawn to watch the show. And a show is what Kim and
Kristy gave them. After working the boys' arms in a painful lock
for what seemed liked minutes, the girls flipped the boys onto
their sides, put the boys' heads between their strong young thighs,
and applied a head scissors. The boys pawed weakly at the girls'
legs, but didn't have nearly enough strength to pry them apart.
Slowly, the boys weakened further, to the point where they were
just lying there helpless and motionless, their heads trapped
between the muscular thighs of their little preteen opponents. The
girls could easily have rendered the boys totally unconscious, but
that would have spoiled their fun. So, after a minute or two more,
they released the boys, who lay there defenceless and spread-eagled
on their backs.

At that point, each of the girls picked up the comparatively
massive legs of her male opponent, putting one of his legs across
each of her shoulders. Then, using her shoulders for leverage, she
bent the boy's legs up past the vertical position back towards his
chest, to the point where his legs came close to touching his head.
Bent like a hairpin and in obvious pain, the boys begged the girls
to stop, and the girls eventually responded, but only after several
hysterical pleas from the boys. After that, straddling the chests
of the defeated older males, the young tomboy victresses slapped
the boys' faces, and threw in some short, but hard punches to the
jaw for emphasis. Meanwhile, the young girls in the watching
audience of swimmers, all between 9 and 11 years old, were laughing
at the spectacle, and shooting threatening glances at the boys in
their group, who seemed shocked at the demonstration of Girl Power
that they were witnessing.

The fight ended with Kim mounted on Greg's chest in a schoolgirl
pin, while Kristy straddled Paul in a similar position. Flexing
their own small but firm biceps, the girls made the helpless
teenage boys feel their muscles. They also made them admit that
they had been totally defeated in a fair fight by much smaller and
younger preteen girls, that they were no match for their Girl
Power, and that girls were the completely superior sex. Seeing
this, the girls in the watching audience made muscles of their own
for the boys in their group, who obediently felt them with a look
of complete humiliation on their faces. The fight was over, and it
was time for the defeated boys to pay tribute to the totally
superior girls.

Sandra stood in front of the humiliated Greg and Paul, and said
"OK, wimps, it's time for you to WA--." She couldn't get the last
word out, however, because Susan had suddenly placed her hand over
Sandra's mouth. Clutching Diana's website FAQ in her left hand,
Susan pointed her finger at a passage of text, and Greg heard her
whisper "definitely not!" Susan and Sandra then whispered in the
ears of Kim and Kristy, and the two preteen girls slowly got up off
the chests of the helpless boys, who lay there spread-eagled on
their backs, exhausted. In a final gesture of supremacy, Kim and
Kristy each put a foot on the chest of the much larger and older
boy that she had defeated, and flexed her right biceps in a classic
victory pose, while the assembled girls in the audience cheered
loudly. Then the preteen victresses commanded the conquered boys
to get up and carry them around the yard in their arms.

Exhausted, Greg and Paul got to their feet and struggled to comply.
Although Kim and Kristy were comparatively light at 75 and 67
pounds, the weakened boys could barely stagger around the yard
cradling the tiny preteen powerhouses who had conquered them so
easily. But not daring to drop the girls, the boys did as they
were told. As Kim and Kristy were carried over to the girls and
boys in the audience, the little tomboy victresses flexed their
right biceps so that the admiring girls and by now trembling boys
in the audience could feel them. From the assemblage of admiring
girls, there were comments of praise for Kim and Kristy, mixed with
jeers of "weakling" and "wimp" directed at Greg and Paul. Finally,
Kim and Kristy commanded Greg and Paul to carry them into the
house, and the teenage boys staggered to the back door, each
carrying the little preteen girl who had mastered his powerfully
muscled male body and shattered what was left of his male ego.

When they got in the kitchen, the girls said that they were
thirsty, and ordered the boys to pour each of them a cold glass of
milk. The 9-year-old Kristy sat at the kitchen counter sipping her
milk, while 16-year-old Paul could only sit across from her
thirstily looking at her - she wouldn't let him have any. After
taking a few large sips of the cold milk, Kristy sat there, with a
cute little milk-mustache on her face, and put her right arm on the
counter. "I haven't beaten you armwrestling yet!," she taunted the
16-year-old boy, and commanded him to put his arm up on the table.
Reluctantly, Greg complied, at the same time wondering whether he
might redeem at least a shred of his male honour by being able to
beat a young girl at something. His opponent now was the 9-year-
old Kristy - not her bigger 10-year-old sister who had beaten him
outside in the fight. There had to be some limit to a young girl's

They locked hands, and Greg tried to push Kristy's arm over
quickly, using all of his remaining strength. But Kristy held off
his best effort, and then, picking up the glass of milk in her left
hand, she slowly took several sips from it while easily holding
Greg at bay with her right arm. Then she put down the glass, and
gazed directly into Greg's eyes. "You're going down, BOY!," she
said, emphasising the last word with a tone of utter contempt.
With that, she began putting on a slow, relentless pressure, and
Greg saw his arm begin to move down towards the table - first a
quarter of an inch, then a half, then a whole inch. Kristy's
little biceps peaked with the effort. Greg was giving it
everything he had, and his arm was quivering with the strain. But
he kept losing ground, when suddenly, in a burst of unexpected
strength, little Kristy slammed his arm down on the table. A 16-
year-old boy, weighing 170 pounds of beautifully-sculpted male

muscle, had lost a contest of strength to a 9-year-old girl whom he
outweighed by more than 100 pounds! Crestfallen and humiliated,
Greg kept his gaze fixed on the countertop - he dared not look his
tiny conqueror in the eye! She, however, was not above gloating at
her triumph, and made Greg admit out loud that she was stronger
than he was, and that girls were clearly the stronger sex.

Kim and Kristy walked over to the corner of the kitchen and
whispered together. Then they came back. "Okay, BOYS," chortled
Kristy, "it's TRIBUTE TIME!" The teenage boys knew what this
meant. Mixed in with their utter humiliation was a feeling of
worship for the totally superior preteen girls, and subconsciously,
Greg and Paul felt a need to recognize the girls' supremacy by an
act of self-abasement.

Greg and Paul stared with mixed emotions of awe and humiliation at
the preteen girls confronting them. Their gaze wandered up their
bodies, drinking in everything. They saw the grass-stained white
sweat socks covering the small feet whose kicks had sent them
reeling, and now they felt a powerful urge to kneel down and kiss
those feet as an acknowledgment of the girls' supremacy. The boys'
eyes lingered on the muscular little tanned calves and thighs that
had so recently held them powerless on the lawn. They noticed as
well the firm young forearms and little fists that had punched them
helpless, and the girls' taut little tummies that could probably
have withstood a boy's punch with ease. The boys couldn't help but
notice also the firm little biceps that the girls had made them
feel in their moment of triumph. And finally, Greg and Paul looked
into the girls' proud faces, and saw in their eyes and mouths the
haughty confidence that they felt in themselves as girls, and the
sneering contempt that they felt for the defeated teenage boys.
Gazing with undisguised admiration at the preteen girls who had
mastered them, Greg and Paul felt no hostility, and were
overwhelmed instead by feelings of humiliation and submissiveness.

"Does the tribute you want begin with the letter W," Greg humbly
asked Kristy, consciously dreading and subconsciously hoping that
she would say yes. "Yes it does BOY!," responded Kristy
imperiously as she proudly stood in front of Greg with her hands on
her hips. Hearing this, and looking at the tough little tomboy who
had uttered the words, Greg felt an involuntary thrill of
excitement pass through his body. But it was short-lived.
Laughing, Kristy continued "The word WRITE begins with a W, and
what you weakling boys have to do for tribute is each write an
essay, at least 1,000 words long, telling what you learned about
girls' superiority on your summer holiday! And it has to be
perfect, with no spelling or grammar mistakes, or you'll have to do
it all over again. And our mum is going to check it - she's a
teacher - so make sure there are NO mistakes. And, by the way, I
want it by tomorrow morning!" And then Kim chimed in, saying "It
had better be good, and besides talking about Susan and Sandra, it
had better say a lot about Kristy and me - understand BOY!"

Greg shook his head meekly in acknowledgment, and so did Paul.
They hated to write. Worse yet, they hated the thought of having
to really admit to themselves, and to express in words, how totally
superior girls had proved themselves to be. And the thought of the
girls' mother reading their papers made it even more humiliating.
Nevertheless, if that was the tribute the victorious little girls
had demanded, that was what they would have - even though it wasn't
quite the tribute that the boys had gotten used to paying. Greg
and Paul walked slowly outside with their heads bowed, and humbly
asked Sandra where they could find some pens and paper, and whether
they could have some time off from their chores to write their
tribute. [It might be an interesting sequel to this story, for yet
another author, to relate what they wrote.]

The End
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Old 03-19-2011, 07:08 PM   #5
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Default Sequel to Sequel! Triquel?

Greg suddenly woke up. He found himself sitting straight up in bed, the room was dark and he had no idea what time it was. Slowly he came to his senses again and began to realize that he had had a terrible nightmare. It was about…. well, he knew there were girls involved and he shuddered involuntarily. Yes, now the dream came back to him: he and Paul had been beaten by some really tiny girls that had even been able to defeat them at arm wrestling! Incredible! He shook his head in despair. This whole affair was going from bad to worse. He looked at the bed beside him. Paul seemed to have some bad dream too, because he was breathing heavily. Suddenly Paul gave a cry and also sat straight up in bed. "Wake up, Paul. It’s all right," Greg hushed to his brother. Paul looked rather bewildered at him and then seemed to realise where he was. "I had a terrible dream, "he said. "Two tiny girls gave us the beating of our life. Eventually we had to write down that girls are in every respect superior to males. It was horrifying!"

Greg was not surprised to find out that his brother had dreamt about the same things as he had. The two brothers had noticed that, since they had been so utterly humiliated by their nieces, they were growing more and more attached to each other and often shared the same thoughts and feelings. They sometimes even slept in the same bed now, if one of them felt really, really bad. At this moment Greg felt really, really bad, so he held up his blanket in an invitation to his brother, who was all too eager to accept. Paul, only wearing female briefs which the boys were forced to wear by the girls, stepped out of his bed and slid into that of his brother. Silently the two devastated males lay down for a while, their faces turned toward each other. "Greg" whispered Paul, " I cannot cope with this situation much longer. It is eating me up deep inside me. I don’t know who or what I am any more." He started to cry. Greg pulled his younger brother towards him and held him in his arms. He felt the warm, strong male body of his brother and began to wonder about the effect it had on him. For sure, he had never been attracted to males before. But his feelings had changed since this awesome story with the girls had begun. He realised that the submission to the two females had very deep implications. And his brother seemed to undergo the same process, because he suddenly felt the hard-on of his brother poking against his belly.

They had never done that kind of things before with each other. Greg and Paul were at a very young age already attracted to girls and to girls alone. But that part of their sexuality seemed not so clear any more now. Greg hugged the sobbing body of Paul and slowly let his hand dwell towards the erect cock of his brother. He caressed the precious thing for a while. "It looks as if this is the only thing of our maleness that is left to us," he thought. He felt that his own cock had swollen too. He pressed it against the left thigh of his brother and sighed. For a while the two boys were able to forget their misery in a secret but exciting play between themselves.

Afterwards they lay silent for some time. "Can’t we go back home earlier, Greg? Can’t we sneak out of the house tomorrow morning and go back home and forget everything?" Paul asked in a whispering voice. "Never" said Greg firmly. He had gained some self-consciousness again. "We would never be able to live normal lives any more if we cannot deal with this awful situation. We have to regain male domination, we HAVE to, do you hear?" He spoke rather loud now, as if to reassure not only his brother but also as if he didn’t mind if the two female cousins would hear him. "We have to make plans, you know" and his voice sank into a whisper when he began to talk to his brother about what he intended to do the next day. After a while the boys fell asleep in each other arms, smiling.

The next morning they were taken by surprise by their two female vixens, who came bursting into their bedroom. Because of the heat of the summer day, which was very notable even at this early hour, the two young stern girls were only dressed in tiny navy blue bikini’s, which barely covered their sprouting female curves. When Susan and Sandra saw the two almost naked boys lying in the same bed, holding each other, they cheered and gave each other high fives. They considered it an act of humiliation that these two strong males had to seek refuge in each other arms for their two little female cousins. They pulled down the sheets and told Greg and Paul that they had to walk around in their female briefs for the rest of the day. Then the two slender girls each took place at one side of the bed and looked the frightened boys straight in the eyes. "Keep your arms alongside your bodies", ordered Susan. The boys knew they had to comply. Then the two girls counted to three and at three punched their tiny fists into the balls of the two strong male cousins. Their bodies convulsed at the stroke and they gave a loud shout of almost unendurable pain. "Come on. Get up, we want to play some more with you this day," Sandra said when the two girls left the room, giggling, and leaving the two shattered boys alone in their humiliation and agony.

When the boys came down to have breakfast (wearing only their briefs as the girls had ordered) they noticed that aunt Margaret had left already for the office. They sighed. This meant that the torture would start right away today, instead of having some half-hour of relative quietness. The two girls looked gleefully at the strong, muscular bodies of their male cousins. They were still very proud of themselves that they had beaten such athletic males into submission. They knew that these two magnificent species of the male sex had to obey them in every way, and that there was no sign left of their former male pride. So they ordered Greg to come and sit on Susan’s lap and Paul on Sandra’s, and they began to treat the two almost grown-up young men as if they were very small children. They would even feed them little pieces of food, which the boys were not allowed to put into their mouth themselves, but had to accept out of the hands of their female cousins. Sandra saw tears in the eyes of Paul and could not help smiling.

While Sandra was feeding Paul with her right hand, she had laid down her left hand teasingly very high on his muscular naked left thigh. She softly stroked his inner thigh and slowly progressed upward. When she reached the edge of his briefs, she saw from the corner of her eye the inevitable reaction in Paul’s trousers. Suddenly she took hold of his swollen cock and gave it a nasty twitch. Paul gave a loud scream because of the sudden pain and fell from Sandra’s lap onto the ground. Sandra and Susan died of laughter. Greg was standing up and hurried towards his brother to help him up. But Susan took hold of his briefs from behind, pulled them down to his knees and gave him a push, so that Greg fell to the ground next to his brother. His nose started bleeding again en he felt rather dizzy. "When you two have pulled yourselves together, you can start doing the dishes. We’ll wait for you guys in the backyard in about half an hour," shouted the girls as they walked out of the backdoor, waving their asses as if to accentuate their femaleness. The two beaten brothers looked at each other, lying on the floor in once more utter humiliation. "Plan A," said Greg, "definitely plan A."

Plan A was in fact rather simple, but that may well have been the reason of its success. The two boys waited until Sandra and Susan were separated from each other in the garden. As Sandra was closest to the house, Paul came out towards her and called to her that Greg had broken a pile of dishes and what they should do with the fragments? Sandra, eager to punish the unfortunate boy, walked into the house with Paul right behind her. When she entered the kitchen, Greg came quickly towards her, mumbling faint excuses. Before Sandra was aware of any danger, Paul grabbed her arms from behind and lifted her up from the floor. Greg took both her dangerous legs in his hands. She was immobilised and could only loudly cry out for Susan. The boys had expected this; in fact it was part of their plan to lure Susan into the house. They had prepared some ropes and so they quickly bound Sandra’s hands and feet together and then laid her down on top of the kitchen table. By the time Susan rushed into the kitchen, Paul and Greg waited each on one side of the door. Susan’s attention was for a fatal moment diverted towards the situation her sister was in, and that moment gave the boys the opportunity to throw a blanket over her head. They pulled her down to the floor.

Susan desperately tried to throw off the blanket, but the two boys simply held the corners pinned down to the floor (to their surprise they both had to apply their full weight to hold the girl down) and waited until the struggling girl got tired. Susan understood their tactics, so after a while she stopped struggling and lay down under the blanket in anxious anticipation. Now the boys did a nasty thing. Greg quietly released the blanket with his right hand and grabbed a heavy saucepan. Carefully he felt for the position of Susan’s head under the blanket and when he had found it, he gave an awful stroke with the saucepan on the poor girl’s head. Luckily the blanket between the pan and Susan’s head was quite thick, otherwise the blow could have easily smashed her head to pieces. But even now the blow was severe enough to put her into oblivion. Quickly the two boys lifted the blanket and bound Susan the same way as her sister. Then they towed the two immobilised bodies of the girls to the living room and attached them each to a leg of the dining table.

Greg and Paul could hardly believe that their plan had been so successful! They kept on staring at the two subdued girls, as if they expected them to throw off their bonds any moment now and give them a good thrashing again. Susan moved and regained her consciousness. Quickly she oversaw the situation and looked at her sister. Sandra had not been quite sure what to do so far, and was glad that Susan was back to take over. Susan smiled reassuringly to her sister. The boys looked a bit worried. It was clear that the girls couldn’t move at all in their present situation, but still they acted as if they were in full control. Greg decided that it was time to take revenge and to put their male dominance back in place where it belonged. "Now it is our turn, GIRLS! We’ll show you that it is really us, MEN, that should be the dominating sex." He tried to kick Susan in the ribs, but the agile girl quickly threw her body up in the air and away from his incoming foot, so that Greg’s leg moved futile in the air and, not meeting the weight he expected, he stumbled to the floor. Paul looked in awe at the tied-up Susan. It was clear that even when the girl was in this harmless state, he was still very much impressed by her. He involuntarily did a step away from her. Alas for him, it brought him into the range of the dangerous legs of Sandra. She hesitated no moment and with a mighty move of her strong limbs she swept the legs away from under Paul’s body. He fell heavily to the floor.

It was a strange sight: here were two tied-up girls who really could hardly move at all, but still they had brought both the boys down to the floor. Especially Paul had made a nasty fall; he remained sitting on the floor and stroked his aching wrist. Greg stood up slowly, not quite sure that he knew what was going on. "I think they have broken my wrist," cried Paul, "let them pay for it Greg, please, let them have it." Greg reacted instinctively to the voice of his brother and busted in on Susan. He bent down to do... yes, to do what? We will never know, because before he could do anything at all, Susan realised that the reckless boy had brought his groin within range of her deadly legs. So she hesitated no moment at all, but pulled her knees up with all her female power and felt them bury themselves in the dangling balls of her male adversary. She felt his balls being crushed between her knees and his pelvis. Greg’s eyes bulged out so far that she wouldn’t be surprised at all if they afterwards should be found rolling around the floor. The devastated boy had even no time to cry out this time, he could only make a soft sighing ‘ughhhhhhhhhh’ sound and then his aching body fell flat down on top of the girl. He would be counted out for some time, that was certain.

Susan was able to throw off the defeated male body from her own. What to do next? Sandra and herself were still tied up and the knots were not easily to be undone. Then the two conquering girls heard a noise in the hallway, the door was swept open and on the threshold there stood…. their mother! Aunt Margaret looked very surprised at what she saw in the living room. Because of the fine weather she had decided to take the rest of the day off and spent some time with the children. She also was very curious about what went on in the house when she was out, because she noticed a strange behaviour between her two daughters and their male cousins. She knew that they had been into a fight with each other, and that the males had come out of it quite damaged. But it seemed to her that it was not only a mere beating that the boys had had to suffer: it almost seemed as if the girls had achieved complete domination of the boys. Because she could hardly believe that to be possible, she was eager to learn how they behaved to each other when they were left alone. What she now saw before her eye was surpassing her wildest imagination. Her two little girls were tied up to the legs of the table. Undoubtedly the boys had been able to do that to them, so that would mean the males were back in control again. But when she looked at the two boys, Greg spread-eagled unconscious to the floor, Paul sitting in a corner, sobbing and caressing his apparently wounded wrist, it looked more like that the girls had been able to give them a good thrashing again, despite their immobility.

"Hi mom," Susan said," took the day off?" She looked quite in control despite her tied-up position. "Eh...yes", answered her mother, still looking around somewhat bewildered. "Let me untie you first" and she hastened towards them and untied the two lithe little girls. ‘Little’ they still were, although it seemed to her that her two daughters had grown a bit during the last days, as if their apparent growing self-consciousness had an effect on their bodily development. The girls stood up and rubbed their stiff wrists. Then they embraced their mother. Greg began to move. He groaned because the returning pain in his balls made him sharply aware of what had happened. He cupped his balls with both hands and began to back off from where he had been lying down. He was not aware of the presence of his aunt yet and thought it wise to keep a safe distance from where he thought his dangerous niece still was to be found. "Hi, Greg," his aunt said, who had watched him crawling for a while, "everything ok?" He startled at the unexpected voice and looked up. He gave a cry of surprise to see his aunt and then a cry of anguish when he saw his two nieces liberated again. One moment later the still almost unbearable pain in his testicles forced him to bend down again and cup his balls once more. Aunt Margaret could not help smiling a bit when she saw the powerful looking young male in such a humiliating position and to know that it had been her daughters who had been the cause of it. She found it erotically thrilling that the strong, muscled body of Greg (which she had secretly admired so very much during the last few days) was of no use at all for him now, and that he lay helplessly at her feet.

"Can anybody tell me what is going on here? " she asked in a stern voice. "Susan, Sandra, Greg, Paul? What did you do to yourselves when I was away?" "Well, the boys wanted to play with us," said Susan in her innocent high-pitched voice, "but I think we were a bit too rough for them, isn’t it Greg?" Greg backed off immediately when he noticed that his niece addressed him. "Don’t come near me, you evil bitch" he exclaimed. Aunt Margaret understood that the situation between the boys and the girls was very tense at the moment. She was not sure how to handle the situation. It was clear to her that the boys were humiliated too much by the girls and that their male pride was shattered to pieces. Maybe they could restore their pride in a new fight with the girls. Even she, both as a woman and as mother of the girls, could hardly believe that her two small daughters were able to beat the two larger and stronger boys in a regular fight. So if she would be the referee and look after the rules, the boys should be able to win and things could perhaps take a turn for the better then. "I think that, since both parties are guilty of treating the others in a nasty way, it would be best to fight it out once and for all, with me as referee. Nobody can accuse the others then of cheating," she exclaimed. Susan and Sandra looked at each other and nodded that they accepted the challenge. Greg and Paul on the contrary turned pale at the mere thought of having to compete again with their dreadful enemies. "Oh no," Greg said, "I will never fight them again, in fact I will never fight ANY girl again in my life. I have had enough of girl-power." He was trembling over his entire body. Paul just stood beside him, holding his limp wrist in his other hand. He looked very unhappy and not at all a ferocious fighter at the moment. The two little girls smiled at each other gleefully, and it looked as if they couldn’t wait to go after the meek, subdued boys again.
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Old 03-19-2011, 07:08 PM   #6
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At that moment the front doorbell rang. Aunt Margaret welcomed the interruption and went to the door. When she opened the door she heard a familiar voice, saying: "Hi auntie." It was Martin, another nephew of hers, and one of her favourites by the way. Seventeen years old, his body not as muscular as that of Greg, but more tough and agile looking, with a handsome, strong but boyish looking face, topped by short black hair, he was her ideal type of a young adolescent male. She looked in admiration at his sunburned smooth body, which he showed off since he, because of the heat of the day, was only wearing a pair of Levi shorts. "Come in, Martin," she said happily. She knew that her two other nephews, Greg and Paul, also very much admired Martin and looked up to him, being the elder, so maybe he could cheer them up a bit. She entered the room and saw that the girls had been after the boys again. Greg and Paul lay both on their stomach on the floor, with the girls sitting on their buttocks and acting as if they were horseracing them. They hit the humiliated boys at their sides with pieces of the rope with which they had been tied up before, like jockeys do. Martin looked at the scene with astonishment and after a while he burst out in a loud laughter. "What kind of a play is this?" he cried out. Greg and Paul were glad to see another male entering the room, but they dared not to stand up. Even after the girls had stood up to welcome Martin, the two boys kept lying on the floor until Susan gave them permission to rise. Then they stood up and greeted their cousin Martin.

"Why do you behave so strangely?" Martin asked them. Greg and Paul looked down and dared not answer him, they were too ashamed of themselves. Sandra jumped in and said: "well, Susan and I have beaten the hell out of them and now they have become our slaves." "A nice game," said Martin, who thought it all to be a play. "Do you think you two girls could beat me too?" he added laughing. "There is no doubt about that," answered Sandra proud. Martin smiled at his aunt. "You have two very self-confident daughters. If I didn’t know they were jesting, I would almost become afraid of them." "Well," Margaret said," we can put it to the test if you want to." "What do you mean? You cannot be serious that I would fight these lovely tiny cousins of mine?" and he lifted Sandra up and tossed her up high in the air. Sandra struck her foot against his nose. "Ouch," he cried and put her down quickly and rubbed his aching nose. "I know you did not do that on purpose, otherwise I would have to give you a good beating for it." "I did it on purpose and I accept your challenge to fight," Sandra replied quietly. "But surely…"said Martin and looked at his aunt, not quite knowing what was going on. Margaret pondered for a while. A fight between Martin and Sandra could set things right again for the boys. And in the unlikely case that Sandra would prevail…. the mere thought of this beautiful muscular male being dominated by one of her own little daughters caused shudders of a deep erotic longing into her body. She was unable to resist that feeling. "Ok," Aunt Margaret said, "You two can fight it out in the garden. Each of you will represent his own sex, so if Martin wins his cousins are set free, but if Sandra wins Martin will have to obey my two daughters too in every respect." Martin shook his head in disbelief. What had started from his side as a joke, was now turning into a real fight with his tiny cousin Sandra. Well, he would finish her off quickly and then take Greg and Paul with him into town; they looked as if they could ! use some time away from their female cousins.

Aunt Margaret went upstairs for a moment to change from her official office-dress into something more comfortable. When she came down again she had put on a summer blouse and a very short skirt. The boys couldn't help looking in admiration at her muscular and impressive legs. All went outside and gathered at the lawn. "Everything is allowed, no holds barred", said Margaret, "the fight is over when one of the opponents is forced to say: ‘I give in’. Everything clear?" She looked around and saw Greg and Paul standing together, anxiously looking at their only hope, Martin. At the other side of the lawn Susan was giving her sister some last instructions. They laughed together and seemed very confident. Greg saw this too and called out to Martin: "please, take the fight serious, Martin. Don’t let their age or posture misguides you. I tell you: she is dangerous. And watch your…ehhh.. (he looked in a shy way to his aunt; it was obvious that he was ashamed to refer to male balls in front of her)…well, you know what I mean, " and he waved vaguely to his own balls. Martin had no idea what he referred to but put his thumb up to him and smiled full of confidence.

"GO", shouted Margaret and the fight was on. Sandra rushed straight away towards Martin for a ferocious attack. Martin couldn’t help laughing at the sight of the tiny but sturdy looking girl, who was more than a head smaller than he was, coming on to him so boldly. He thought that his niece was becoming quite attractive by the way. He couldn’t help admiring her slim but toned body, with it’s budding curves. His anger about the accident with his nose was already subdued and he decided to play a bit with Sandra first. So when she came in and landed a flood of blows unto his body, he did not fight back at first but only tried to cover his body. "Fight back, hit her wherever you can", cried Greg and Paul anxiously, who knew what Sandra was aiming at. Sandra soon found out that the higher she threw her blows at Martin’s body, the higher he held his arms and hands in defence before him. She smiled and aimed a blow at his face. Upward went both the boy’s arms. Sandra did one more step forward so that she now stood within inches of the strong muscular male and lifted up her bare left knee with full power and buried it straight into Martin’s balls. Had this fight up to now not been more than a big joke for him, the devastating, sharp pain in that beloved part of his body made it now all too clear to him that this fight meant serious business. The air was driven out of his lungs, his eyesight became blurred, his hands reached for his groin in a protective gesture and he was forced to bent down. That positioned his face right above the other knee of the lithe little girl and with a mighty swoop of her sturdy thigh, she drove her right knee on the nose of her strong male opponent. Was his body first bent in a forward direction, this kick straight in his face sent his body backwards again, so that he fell on the grass, lying on his back.

Blood was all over his face and dripped onto his beautifully carved male chest. Aunt Margaret sighed and felt pity for the poor guy. Sandra however was instructed by Susan to feel no pity whatsoever for her opponent and dived straight after him. She placed herself on top of him, her small but strong legs on each side of his chest, and started to throw blows all over his face. Susan understood that her sister was in fact a bit reckless. This male had only received the first few punches unto his body and was not subdued properly yet. Much of his strength was still intact. So she tried to warn her sister to back off for a while, but it was too late. The spectators saw the strong muscles of his legs contract and with a mighty swung of his body Martin was able to throw Sandra of his chest. Now it was his turn to act quickly and in no time he sat himself on her tummy, pressed both her arms down beside her face and looked down at his little tormentor. She looked very fragile under the big strong male. His sight was still a bit blurred and his groin very painful, so he was not top-fit any more. He shook his head to restore his eyesight and then he saw that one of the cups of the girl’s bikini-top had slid of her breast. Her nipple was poking upwards in the free air, and although here female curves were still in development they were all there, and it had a diverting effect on Martin. He wanted to put the cup back in place and lifted his right arm in order to do that.

Sandra had felt quite hopeless when she had found herself buried under the heavy male body, which outweighed her by at least 30 kilos. She found out quickly that she would never be able to turn herself free. She was already afraid that her case was lost and that she had let her sister down, when she saw Martin gazing at her right breast. Then she noticed that her bikini was not in its proper place. She felt a bit ashamed to be exposed in that way to the male above her, but then she felt his grip on her right arm loosening and she understood that the exposure of her tit would probably save her. She heard Greg shouting to Martin to hold control over her and finish her, while Susan on the other side was yelling at her to take advantage of the situation. She hold out with her free arm and gave a terrible blow on Martin’s face again. He fell backwards in agony, both hands to his battered nose. Somehow she managed to wriggle herself out from under him and she got to her feet again. She felt that her bikini-top was in disorder and she decided to get rid of it all the way. So she removed it quickly and stood now bare-breasted in the sun. She was a beautiful example of female strength with her tanned shapely body. Martin realised that he should get up on his feet too and managed to stumble up. But his face was in a terrible condition by now, full of blood and bruises. And his balls were also still aching from her first kick. So he didn’t quite felt ready to attack and just stood there, waiting for his female opponent to come in and finish him.

Sandra didn’t waste much time and rushed in on Martin with quick blows and retreated again before he could take hold of her. This went on for some minutes in which the spectators saw in amazement that the fragile looking little girl was slowly breaking down the dominant muscular male. It was a pitiful sight to see that his big muscles were of no use to him at all. He was simply not quick and smart enough for his female opponent. Sweat was pouring down from his forehead and it mingled with the blood that still came out of his broken nose. With each blow of the female fighter his muscular body weakened more and more, and after one last fierce kick aimed at his chest, he stumbled and fell spread-eagled backwards. Although still conscious, Martin was now so beaten up that he could hardly move. Everything ached and felt sore on his body. Vaguely he heard the shouts of his male cousins warning him to watch out, that Sandra was coming in on him. He was barely able to lift his head and saw vaguely the figure of his female opponent standing between the V of his legs. She was looking very fit and seemed to have got no damage whatsoever from the fight. In fact her breath was very quiet and under control. "Do you give in," she asked him in her innocent high-pitched voice. He shook his head. Never would he submit to a girl, let alone this small kid, five years younger than he was. He saw how she brought her right leg backwards and before he realised what her intention was, her foot swung forward, aiming directly at his exposed groin. The moment her foot came home, accompanied by a loud ‘YESSSS’ from Susan, who was very proud of her little sister, he felt a terrible pain that took control of his entire body. One moment he was forced to sit straight up and tried to cup his balls with his hands, the next moment his brain was overloaded by the pain and sent him into oblivion, so that he fell backwards on the grass again.

The bare-breasted girl bent over and removed the shoes and shorts of her defeated victim, exposing his genitals to the public. She quickly gave a look at his balls, which looked a bit blue and swollen. Her mother Margaret was slightly shocked by this brutal dominating behaviour of her daughter, but found it also sexually stimulating, watching the total humiliation of the older boy. She felt a primitive urge to take the wounded male animal back with her into the house and to let him be her sexual slave for hours and hours to come. She shuddered with pleasure and felt her intimate female place aching for relief. Her excitement was augmented by the fact that she had not put on any underwear when she had changed before the fight, so she could almost feel her feminine juices drip on her thighs. Margaret composed herself again and started to walk towards the two fighters. She noticed how one of Martin’s mighty legs was stirring again: he was regaining consciousness. She heard Sandra asking him the same question again: did he give in? The answer seemed negative again, because she saw how Sandra laid herself down beside him and quickly closed both her nicely carved thighs around his neck.

Since Aunt Margaret had started to move in unto the two fighting kids, the others had followed her example. So now Sandra and Martin lay in a close ring of people who were watching the contest. The spectators saw, each with a different appreciation of the situation, how Sandra had begun to slowly squeeze her strong thighs together around the neck of Martin. The once mighty young male was in a pitiful state: his strong, muscular body was laid out in full nakedness before their eyes, but it was totally useless and immobilised. They could now see clearly the damage the little girl had afflicted upon the older boy: his head was in shambles, his once smooth body full of bruises, and his balls … the male audience shivered just at the looks of them.

Martin felt the hard, strong thighs of his niece slowly cutting off the air to his lungs. He looked up and saw all the others gathered closely around him. He realised what a shameful sight he offered them: his powerful and muscular male body at the mercy of his little and so much younger niece, while he was helpless and completely naked, his male genitals for everyone to be seen. He shamed himself deeply to be exposed in this way, especially to his aunt and female cousin Susan. He felt a blush going over his entire body and he closed his eyes in despair. He wished all of them had disappeared when he opened his eyes again. But when he did so, they were of course all still there, looking down at him in amazement at his humiliation. Martin failed to understand how he had got into this dreadful situation. He, a powerful, agile, muscular male, in the strength of his life, being forced down by this comparatively small and fragile girl. He groaned and tried once more in a futile attempt to free himself from the grip of his female cousin. His aim was no longer to take revenge on Susan and to defeat her, but only to be able to free himself so that he could run away and hide.

The audience saw how he stretched once more his mighty male muscles and wriggled his body to get rid of this humiliating female suppression. But Susan just added a little more pressure unto him with her sturdy legs and, the air to his lungs being cut off almost completely, that was enough to submit him once more. Martin realised now that he was fully at the mercy of this tiny lithe girl, and tears started to appear in his eyes. There was absolutely nothing else he could do than lay down and have himself being looked at by the audience in all his nakedness. It was up to Susan to decide what would happen next.

Suddenly he perceived in himself a new and very basic feeling, which had a kind of nauseating effect on his stomach. It was suddenly clear to him what had up to now been hidden very deep in his subconsciousness: that this was the natural way of things. Males were meant to be inferior to Females! And although his whole education had tried to teach him that it was the other way around, at this very instant he realised that this new insight was a basic Truth. Strangely enough it calmed him down, as if everything was ok now and he did not have to resist any more. This new state of mind also liberated a, until now, deeply hidden feeling of sexual excitement, to be humiliated and exposed in this way. He felt his penis react to this feeling and although he did everything he could to prevent it, his cock started to crouch slowly towards his stomach. "Oh great, Sandra," he heard Susan cry out, "he is enjoying the beating you are giving him, look," and she pointed to his full erection.

Sandra looked at this last shred of male pride of her opponent. Suddenly she swung her leg that lay on top of his neck, with a strong sweep downward towards his groin and let her heel struck forcibly down upon his protruding maleness. Ever so quick she swung her leg back again and closed it once more around Martin’s neck. Martin had started to sit up when the devastating blow hit that vulnerable part of his male body, but was forced back down again by her returning leg. He wanted to shout out a loud cry of male anguish in his agonising pain, but his throat was cut off, so he only could let off a soft sighing sound. His hands flew towards his hurt male pride to protect and caress it. After a while however, the pressure of Sandra’s thighs became so alarming that he had to release his aching cock and wanted to put his hands on her pressing thighs, in a desperate and vain attempt to loosen them. Just when his hands were on their way upward, Sandra again swept her leg down and this time she planted the heel of her foot firmly into his balls. And back again went her leg around his neck.

This procedure was repeated several times, and it was clear to Greg and Paul that Martin couldn’t last out this very painful treatment much longer. Greg saw Martin’s head grow quite blue, his veins seemed to burst, and his still swollen cock looked battered. It was to Greg as if he relived his own shameful defeat in the fight with his nieces once again. At the same time he felt very embarrassed that his older cousin, which he admired so much and in which he had had so much confidence, was forced into such a humiliating situation. He particularly felt ashamed that Martin was forced to show his erect penis and everything else to the audience. Being a teenager, Greg felt a strange mixture of shame and pride over his own genitals. But he felt very strongly that one's genitals had to be kept to oneself and should not be seen in public. At the same time he was curious how an erection looked like with another male, so he could not help himself glancing at the exposed cock of Martin. But his urge to make an end to the shameful position of his cousin became stronger and stronger.

Full of grief, Greg suddenly made a move toward the two fighters in a desperate attempt to free his male cousin. Susan had watched him closely however, and immediately swung her arms around his neck and forced him down to the ground, next to Martin. With a mighty swung of her legs she applied the same position to Greg as Sandra had done to Martin. So before Greg realised what was happening, he found himself in the same humiliating position as Martin. Strangely enough this had the same effect on his cock as it had with Martin, so it didn’t long before he too lay down there with a full erection, which came peeping out of his briefs. The two sisters looked gleefully at each other, and began to swing their legs to the balls of their defeated adversaries and back to their necks in the same rhythm. This delightful play didn’t last very long. Almost at the same moment the two battered males cried out: "I give in, you win!" and went into oblivion.

Aunt Margaret had looked towards the only male left, Paul, to see whether she had to come into action too, but Paul was in no state to pick up a fight whatsoever. She was a little disappointed about that (she would have loved to join in the same ball busting game with her daughters). Suddenly she saw however how Paul also seemed to get excited by the sight of the strong males being beaten up by the two tiny girls. The front of his briefs was sticking forward and began to form a huge tent. Paul saw his aunt smile to him and he smiled back faintly, not sure of what her intentions might be. Margaret moved over to him and said: "you seem to like the show that your female cousins have given, Paul?" Paul thought it wiser not to answer directly, so he nodded vaguely. Then, Aunt Margaret went with her right hand into the briefs of the teenage boy and took a firm hold of his erect cock. Paul’s face twitched in anxious expectation of what this new female tormentor would do to him and his precious genitals.

Aunt Margaret however turned again towards the battlefield and called the fight over and the females to be the winners. The girls then released their grip and stood up. They cheered and gave high fives to each other and their mother. Susan removed the briefs from her battered opponent Greg, and then got rid of her own bikini-top too. The two proud bare-breasted girls each placed one foot upon the chests of the defeated males, just when they regained consciousness. The devastated boys laid down in complete humiliation, their cocks still swollen. Aunt Margaret could feel in her hand how the sight of the almost naked girls excited Paul even more and made his cock rise even higher. She could not hold herself back in her excitement and cried out to her daughters: "come on, let them pay their male tribute to you, victorious girls. I want to see some male milk from my nephews." Susan and Sandra immediately placed themselves between the V’s of the spread legs of the boys and said: "you heard the wish of your aunt. From now on you will have to obey every wish or command from any of us females. So start WANKING!"

The boys, having no will to resist left in their bodies, took hold of their throbbing cocks, but before they could devote themselves to their humiliating job, Aunt Margaret made them pause for a moment. She removed her skirt and showed her beautiful, muscular legs and her impressive pubic mound in public. Her vulva was covered with a thin layer of black pubic hair, on which a few drops of her feminine juices were glistening in the sun. The boys looked in awe at the size of her mighty thighs, and the sight of her mound made them swallow. Then, she quickly pulled down the briefs from Paul and stood herself above the heads of the two wanking boys, with her face towards them. She manoeuvred Paul close behind her, his front pressing against her back, and let him stick his cock underneath her buttocks. The tip of his erection just stuck out between her legs in front. She then ordered Paul to rub his cock between her mighty thighs and against her vulva. "Go boys, go," she shouted at the two devastated males at her feet and they started wanking again. The view they had of this impressive, voluptuous and muscular woman, towering above them with her dripping vulva, made the boys feel very small and weak. This provoked a great sexual excitement in them and they spasmed with climax only after a few strokes: they spurted their milky globules into the air. Paul too exploded after a few moves of his penis. Margaret felt his cock throbbing against her vagina, and it gave her a feeling as if she herself was ejaculating. Because her thighs had a firm hold of his cock, she was able to direct his (or was it now her?) white semen in abundance over the humiliated faces of her two nephews, who suffered this new abasement without protest. Susan and Sandra cheered at this cunning manoeuvre of their mother.

Paul then could no longer witness the humiliation and defeat of his male cousins. He removed himself from his aunt, pulled up his briefs, turned and started to walk slowly to the house. Besides his unwillingness to watch the victory of the females any longer, he also knew the terrible act that would probably follow right now. And when he heard the two defeated boys behind his back suddenly cry out in a loud shout of male agony and pain, he involuntarily bent forward and cupped his own genitals with his hands. Then he straightened himself up again and kept on walking. He knew that the rest of the week would bring lots and lots of pain and humiliation for them: poor, poor boys.

The End
18 | Male | Switch
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Old 03-29-2011, 06:00 PM   #7
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Simp, I'm starting to get the feeling that you want to be dominated by a female
"I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty, or give me death"
- Patrick Henry - March 23, 1775


Justin Bieber sucks (not what I really wanted to say).


Justin Bieber's voice -> my ears get raped


me: "make it stop, make it stop, please make it stop"
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Old 03-29-2011, 07:24 PM   #8
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Default Wow.

Nice story. Took me a long while to read but, that was very well wrote.

A little predictable and boring at times. But, it was a solid 8.9/10
Read my story.
Hank A. Golden

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Send Me PM's with dares or if you just want to talk, I'm always open for a nice chat.

<3 Chris

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Old 04-03-2011, 03:34 PM   #9
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I looooove this!
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domination, femdom, slave, young

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