Chores - The Unauthorized Sequel By C. Quill  Back.

Two Teenage Boys Discover Just How Superior Girls Really Are 
 

I'm a recycler of characters and themes.  After the original author 
tires of his characters and discards them as stale, I find a fresh 
plot twist and give them at least one more brief episode of 
literary life.  Out of respect for the original author, and 
sometimes out of a sense of parody, I try, to some extent, to mimic 
the original author's style and general themes.  However, I also 
try to adhere scrupulously to the site FAQ for stories, and avoid 
having minor characters engage in overt sex.  It's a little tongue-
in-cheek, and done in a spirit of fun, and I hope that my efforts 
will elicit some appreciation, as well as a chuckle or two, from 
the original author and his loyal readers.  Please address any 
comments to c_quill@hotmail.com, or post them on Diana's "Authors 
and Contributors" message board. 
 
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Synopsis of the original story: 
 
My first "victim" is Hardie, who recently posted a two-part story 
entitled "Chores for the Boys," about two teenage English brothers, 
16-year-old Greg and 15-year-old Paul, who spend two weeks of 
holiday visiting with their younger cousins, 13-year-old Susan and 
11-year-old Sandra.  After a dispute arises as to who will do the 
household chores, the girls propose to settle the matter by 
challenging the boys to a fight.  The girls open the battle with a 
surprise "busting" attack, and in the ensuing battle, the weakened 
boys prove no match for their smaller, younger and more agile and 
aggressive female cousins.  Susan totally and utterly defeats Greg, 
and Sandra easily dispatches Paul, in a one-sided battle that 
leaves no doubt about the girls' supremacy.  Broken in body and 
spirit, the boys are reduced to being the girls' slaves.  Several 
days later, however, Paul begins to think that the girls won the 
fight only because of their "sneak" busting attack, and that they 
could not have won in a fair fight.  Betting on this theory, the 
16-year-old Paul stages his own surprise attack on 11-year-old 
Sandra, and finds out, to his chagrin, that girls don't need to 
fight dirty to win.  Using a combination of superior agility, 
stamina, speed and brains, she outfights and outsmarts the much 
older and larger boy, and he is completely humbled and defeated by 
his little preteen cousin (who "busts" him anyway after she proves 
her superiority in the fight).  After both matches, the girls force 
the boys to pay "tribute" to their girl conquerors in a unique 
manner, which the gentle reader should not expect to be repeated 
here.  And now, this unauthorized sequel picks up. 
 
*********************************************** 
 
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. 
 
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 
power! 
 
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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