Chores for the Boys, Part 1 by Hardie.
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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
consciousness.
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
victory.
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
control."
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
erection.
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
victory.
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
girls.
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