This work is copyrighted to the author @2021.  Diese Arbeit ist dem Autor urheberrechtlich geschützt © 2021. Please do not remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved by author. codes: M+f+/ SM / humil / viol / caution / anal / nc

WARNING: This story delves into aberrant sex practices that might well offend you.  If so, please leave.  Some of the sex depicted is consensual, some not.  I don't condone it.  I'm not advocating it.  I may or may not even like it.  It's simply a fantasy, a product of my imagination, and thus, completely fictitious. Peace, brothers.

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Eddy The Tomboy

Or

How I Learned to Love the Bomb

(An Erotic Horror Story)

 by

Hunsi

(Bad Robot)

Book cover Picture

Click to meet the players

https://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/HumblePie/eddy.jpg

Chapter I

Eddy The Tomboy

It’s summer in Knocksville, and that means baseball to Eddie Getty.

At the moment, we find Eddy, aka Elizabeth Getty, at home, extremely unhappy having been pinned down by Mommy Dearest and made to listen to her gripe instead of running out the door and onto the Knocksville Ballers diamond down at Maple Park.

“I told you, Lizzy, baseball is for boys, not girls who should be home with their mothers honing up on her homemaking skills and learning how to look and dress-up pretty, or the man above be forgiven, you look to everyone in the neighthood like a gone girl. And no one likes a ragamuffin, out of order girl, gone girl. Especially those girl’s who will be starting high School next month.”

“Oh, give me a break, Mom,” she moaned, as she continued on lacing up her cleats. Then, once upright again, she straightened the bill on her ‘Knocksville Ballers’ cap, she said quietly, though most assuredly, “Okay, Mom, whatever. I’ll see you at 4.”

“Wait, wait, are you wearing that new Daisy-Mazzy bra & cami set I just bought you beneath those pinstripes? If you are, then I’m sorry. No matter how much it displeases you to hear me say it, those triple-A lemons of yours a going the way of a pair of B-cup peaches and into the realm of Mount Olympus in very short order.”

“In other words, it’s either armor plating to disguise the fact that you’re a girl playing on a boy’s team, or you’re not going to like the crash landing.”

“That is if you’re still keen on pursuing this silly sleight of hand game you’re playing. Telling yourself that your extremely astute coach doesn’t know, and that it’s alright with you that he carry on treating you like a battler, the tough boy, and leave the silk glove treatment for the girlie-boys sitting on the bench.”

“Yeah, Mom, wherever,” Eddy scoffed, “Nice theory, and I’d like to talk to you about it, but right now I gotta go.” Then after making like she was grapping her crotch, she pounded her fist into her mitt, then turned and walked out the door.”

Well, what can I say that I haven’t already? Eddy, aka Elizabeth Getty, is one tough little girl, No? In fact, calling her ‘butch’ doesn’t even come close to covering it. But in truth she was everything but the crass, crude tough girl in a jock she appeared to be.

To be more succinct, she was quite the cutie lil’ head turner. The kind of girl that made boys want to extend every curtesy, and saintly men’s dicks to rise.

At 4’8”, thin and delicate and yummy as a strawberry crepe, she would’ve topped the list of any man’s choice for breakfast, lunch or dinner or any time he wasn’t yet dead. Yet here she is playing tough with the boys, day in, day out, and even given the war that it was, not one of then jocks ever came to beating her down.

----

Chap 2

Eddy, our tomboy, ran like the wind to catch up for lost time.

Upon her arrival, she saw that the boys on the Knocksville Ballers were still on the field practicing, so she decided to wait it out sitting in the dugout so she’d be first on the field when her team, the Bobby Socks Dingers took the field.

“Hey, Eddy, how’s it hanging,” Sally Taylor, cheerfully called out as skipped her way over to the dugout to wait it out aloneside her friend.

“Hi, yah, Sal.”

“Hi,ya back. I see the “Dinger’s are still at it. What hogs.

“Oh look, here comes Buster Manson,” she said while pointing toward the ruggedly handsome shortstop who was walking off the field and towards them.

“I wonder that he wants?”

“Don’t know,” Eddy replied. Maybe he’s looking to give me congrats for that liner I snagged five feet outside the third base line in our win over the Knocksville Smashers.”

“You think? Well, say what will, it was a beauty.”

“Hey, Eddy,” Buster said, leaning on the the cyclone fense that fronted the dugout. That was some play you made the other day.”

“Thanks, Bro, coming from you that is saying something.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. I just want you to know that everyone is talking about your ‘go get’um’ balling skills and your ball-busting tenacity.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, well, they’re talking about something else too.”

“Yeah, what?”

“Well, you know that Billy Brown our third base men is moving away next week, right?”

“Yeah, I heard. His daddy has himself a new job.”

“Yeah, well, have also heard that everyone has their eyes fixed on you to replace him?”

“Really, honest injun?”

“Hell yeah. I mean you might be a tiny lil’ mite, but you the chops of a bulldog. With you on Third, me at Short, and Scooter Mcgee on the mound, man oh man oh man, the Dinger’s will be the best damn team Knocksville has ever seem.”

“Plus, you’re not only tough but pretty and sweet as a cone with spinkles. The kind of stuff a fella just got to lick and dig into with everything he’s got.”

“Hum?” And that’s a compliment?”

“Hey, I’m just saying it as it is, so don’t go throwing no daggers at no innocent man.”

On that she had to laugh. “Yeah, well, laugh if you want, but everyone knows it’s rock solid true.”

“Anyway, that ain’t come to talk about.”

“No?”

“No! I came to ask if you know who Butch Gage is?”

“Yeah, he’s the coach of the Knocksville Tigers.”

“Yep, that’s him, and man oh man does he have hots for your ball handling skills. I mean they don’t come no better. The way you caress them balls, your grip so firm yet not so firm as squeeze the life out of them.”

“Oh, yeah, he said that?”

“Yep, he said it gets him hot just watching you play!”

“Yeah, well when you see him again, tell him thanks.”

“You tell him.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. That’s what I come to tell you. He wants to see you at the Tiger’s clubHouse and he asked me to bring you.”

“The clubhouse, me?”

“Yeah, sure. You see, to join the club you got to hang with the gang. Then, of course, there there are matters of initiation that you got to do if want to become part of a winning team.”

“Mostly get to know everyone on a personal level, their likes & dislikes and how best to soothe the beast in them. You know, to show them that tough boy side of you as well as your softer malleable girlie side, which when you think about it ain’t so bad.

“Oh, I know, you don’t much like thinking about all that, and at the moment there ain’t much there to be thinking about. But trust me, as sure as the sun shines & weeds grow, you’re going to have plenty enough to share with teammates & friends & foes alike, and whenever they like. So you see, that so bad, not at all.”

“Not so bad?”

“Yeah, well, that’s what I said and I’m sticking to it. I mean, what we’re talking about here is your joining Butch Gage’s team.”

“I mean think about it,” Buster said rather emphatically. “Butch Gage, a man who played in the Major Leagues for 8 years is not your everday Joe. With a career batting average of 302, the man who knows baseball, and he knows discipline, and he knows how to train a newbie who’s got some talent, but as of yet, doesn’t know how to use it.”

“He calls them ‘Meat Heads,’ cus they don’t have much between their’s ears, though they do have the skills & the knowhow to float like a butterfly & sting like a bee – meaning they can kick ass, and that’s what he sees in you. A rare talent that can raise hell at the plate to boost your stats, or bunt and offer up their ass for the good of the team.”

“Now, I really can’t say how much punting you’re going to be doing around here, but since you’re the rookie, I’d say it’d be wise to bring some vaseline along with you to practice.”

“All the boys go through that?”

“Well, first off, the ain’t rookies like you. But they sure as hell are lugs nuts, so with them it’s more like bloody noses to keep them in line.”

“Good golly, what am I getting myself into?”

“Look,” Buster said, “If it helps, I’ll get Janie Rainey to be there to hold your hand. You know her don’t you?”

“Yes, of course, she’s a hussy from square one and Butch Gage’s girlfriend. She’s already 15, a year ahead of me, and Butch’s girlfriend.”

“Wrong, you dolt! She’s not his girlfriend. She’s his ‘main Squeeze’.”

Well, excus-s-s-me, Mr. Nitpick.” She’s his sque-e-eze!” Okay?”

“Look, you want to run with the big boys you’ve got strap on the jock and speak their language.”

“Okay, Okay, so what about Janie Rainey?

“Well, I was just thinking out loud that maybe you’d feel better if she was there to hold your hand while you go through all that initiation rigmarole.”

“Yeah, okay. She is every bit the hussy & don’t play ball, but she’s always been nice to me.”

“Okay then it’s settled. Practice will over for me in about 30 minutes so you just hold tight until I give her a call.”

-----

30 Minutes After Practice . . .

Hey, Eddy,” our young tomboy heard from the sidelines. Looking up from her crouched over stance, she saw Janie Rainey waving to her from the sidelines.

“Hey, you too,” Eddy yelled back, as she ran over to talk to her.

“Buster called me. He said you needed someone to hold your hand.”

“Yeah, well I’m a big boy, it’s just that you know your way around and I don’t. I mean, I’ve never even been to the clubhouse and you have.”

“Yeah, I know. I know my way around. No problem, I’ll hold your hand if that’s what you want!”

So she did, and our little tomboy followed, walking the distance through Knocksille’s downtown civic center and into the the city park where the clubhouse was to be found.

“This is it, the clubhouse, inside a gardener’s tool shed?”

“No, jerk off, it’s on the otherside. Damn, what a dimwit,” Janie scald, and then with a mighty tug, nearly jerked Eddy off her feet, “This way, you lug nut!”

And so the lug nut stumbled along behind until coming to front a door upon which a picture on baseball slugger slamming one out of the park had been painted on the door.

“Wait, wait,” Eddy said, feeling a bit of the jitters. “Can you please explain to me why exactly it is we’ve come here?

“Oh lordy, will you stop being such a puss. You know damn well why we’re here. It’s called initation, and it’s something they do to teach you how it is they expect you to navigate your way through a sea of cocks.

“Besides, you said that Butch Gage was a hero of yours, someone you want to please.”

“No fault there, of course. He’s still a great player who knows the game like none other, and if I might add, nothing less than dreamboat that any girl could wish to ride.”

“So, what’cha say we get this party going,” she said as she opened the door to the sound of hooting & hallowing boys over the sound of a ball game playing on TV and racked pool balls being busted up.

“Looks like fun, hu?” Come, let’s get your butt in gear,” Janie said as she opened the door to step in. “Oh wait, I forgot to ask.

“You’re not on the rag or anything are you?”

“What?” Eddy said with a start.

“You know! The rag, the plug, the stopper!”

“No, how disgusting! Besides, how does that matter?”

“Haha,” Jamie giggled as she swung the door open and stepped in.

“Hi’ya everyone,” Janie called out. as she walked in with an all too womanly hip swaying strut.

“Anyone got a nickle for a kiss, a dime for a squeeze, or a quarter to offer an expert in unsticking a stuck zipper? I’m taking orders.”

The boys laughed and yahooed it up to the tune of zippers zipping up and down. That is until Butch Gage came up and lifed her off her feet. If you’re going to fix stuck zippers you got to do mine first.”

“Hey, who’s this? Billy Buck the 1^st basemen asked from aside while pointing at Eddy.

“That’s Eddy Getty who is looking to join our team, Butch Gage replied more in the way of a pronouncement than not.”

“Now you guys finish up on the bells and get to the bench presses while I see about getting my zipper fixed.”

“Oh, yeah, and you Eddy, I want you in the weight room to spot for the powerlifters to insure safety, and not just to sit there grinning while watching those jerk off’s jacking off.”

------

Chapter 3

That night at home in her bed she tossed & turned restlessly, fearing she might not get any rest at all that night.

Though not due to any wrong doings during the 3 hours she spend at the clubhouse, spotting for the boys, and spotting some things beneath their shorts that no 13 year old girl ought to be spotting, nor spend time dodging, nor pretend that it was all old hat, and nothing she hadn’t seen before.

It was all a guise, of course, so as not to come off the innocent, and in process, punch a hole in her tough boy image.

It was an easy enough act to pull off with respect to the boys who tend to speak with their cocks, and as she was soon to discover, so did the big boy, Butch, who wasted zero time taking her up and in his arms and then pressed and slid his cock along her belly while licking her face like a cone.

“Now there’s 3^rd baseman for you boys, a real player,” he chuckled while pulling down the back of her panties slap her ass . . .

“Today you were the spotter, tomorrow the masseuse!”

----

To say that her world had flipped from her all comsuming passion for baseball, baseball, baseball, to feeling that very same passion for a man and his team, would have seemed all but impossible had you asked the day before.

But that was exactly how it went down, starting that very night when lying in bed, she ran her fingers over her belly and over and under her panties.

An exercise in ‘self-abuse’, (strange term that,no?), that felt electric, all consuming, and throughout the digital exercise in self-abuse not a single thought about baseball entered her head. It seemed as if lost to her, and in its place, a kaleidoscope of feelings that were all too new to her, and not likely to disappear over night as had her passion for baseball.

-----

Chapter 4

Eddy is introduced to Tiger, aka Fido, the club mascot.

The next morning she is shaken out of early, as her mother need her to run to the store to buy some goods for breakfast.

“Okay, she replied as she start to gather up her Knocksville Ballers pinstripe uniform, cap, cleats & glove to make the run.

“Oh know you don’t. Half the town is going to see you.”

“Ask me if I care.”

“I do,” her mother replied, while reaching in the closet and pulled out a thigh-high, wide flared skirted dress that she’d recently bought for her out of the closet.

“Isn’t it cute?”

Well, maybe yes, or maybe no, its charm lie in the eyes of the beholder, and upon her return she quicked learned that wasn’t to be her.

“Sorrow dear, I locked the door to your room. For just this once, you’re going to walk out this house looking a pretty girl and not the ugly boy.”

-----

I Needn’t say how fast she ran all way to the Knocksville Tigers clubhouse, without stopping, without thinking about how that stupid dress was going to make her the butt of all jokes.

But when she got there she found no one home. Only a sign on the door that read:

‘Sorry forgot to tell. We’ve got us a make-up game to play today with the Eastside Giants. You’ll find the kibble in the cupboard, and Fido, our team mascot, inside guarding our digs and has got himself a bad case of the hungries. So first up, he need be fed.’

Muchas Gracias, Butch.

“Jeez,” her moaned in exasperation. ‘If not one thing it’s another. If it isn’t someone trying to cop a feel, it’s some stupid little rug rat Pekingese, or some other lil’ pooch that I gotta nursemaid.’

‘What a pisser,’ she bristled, ‘All this bull when all I came here for was to get me somes pointers on how to improve my game. Oh well, can’t spent my day standing out here’ she shugged, and then after balling up the note, she headed on inside.

‘Aaaaah, shit!’ She shrieked in terror as a huge black Rottie that had to out weigh her by a multiple of 3, stood upright inside the door with a puzzling look giving her the once over.

“You’re Fido? You’re the mascot? You’re the one I’ve gotta dance on a feather to keep amused?”

------

Eddy, our tomboy, who had been left behind to nursemaid a huge four legged Goliath with an attitude, was sitting in the corner with ‘Fido’ standing over her, and with her thigh-high wide flared skirted dress that her mother made her wear tucked protectively under her knees.

“Hey, I hope Eddy is still around,” she heard Tommy Ryder cajoling with his friends upon their approach latter that afternoon.

“Why is that buddy boy,” Danny Stone asked. You looking forward to catching a glimpse of some puss. Hell yeah! What’cha looking at, her dick?”

“Fuck off Tommy you turd,” he said as they pushed open the door where the lot of the scuffed up ballplayers came face to face with a cowering Eddy holding on protectively to her dress while a half boned up ‘Fido’ hovered over her.

“Hey, look everyone,’ Bucky Miller called out, Eddy is wearing a dress!”

“Yeah,” Sammy Bates cut in, “she must have been looking forward to something special today.”

“No kidding, jerk off,” Mikey Blake scoffed, while his eyes remained glued to that molten, spider-vein sausage of Fido’s dancing about and nudging up against a cowering Eddy, sitting on the floor below it.

“Yeah, well, you call your daddy a jerk off, but not me.”

“No, I was saying that it don’t take no Einstein to tell she’s looking forward to something specal.”

“And you know what? It looks to me like she was about to get it!!”

“Get it, get it,” Sammy Bates howled out in laughter, “She was about get it!!! Now that’s funny, he howled out in laughter while slapping is knee.”

But all that knee slapping laughter that broke out lasted but a minute before coach Butch Gage walks in with a duffle bag of equipment over his shoulder, and he looked a bit peeved.

“You damn lug nuts! You run out and leave me to carry all this shit in on my own?”

“Sorry, coach, Sammy Bates said. “I was meaning to come back to help.”

“Yeah, well, that’s big of you. I hope all those good intentions of yours didn’t hurt you none.”

“Jeez, I said I wanted to come help but you see . . .,” he said while pointing to Eddy who was shivering in fright beneath a boned up Fido standing up over her.

“Awe, well, now I see why,” coach Gage said, once he’d spotted Eddy on the floor cowering beneath Fido wearing what he assumed to be a dress, or atleast, what little there was of one!”

“That’s a pretty dress, Eddy,” he said chuckling as he walked over to her. “I didn’t even know you owned one.” In fact, I find the discovery every bit as rich as winning the lottery.”

“Then, turning toward the boys, “I’m sure you guys have been complimenting her on how pretty she looks in a dress. Right?”

“Sure coach, but Fido,” Sammy Bates asked, sounding a bit Perplexed.

“Oh, yeah, Fido looks to be all over it. In fact, he looks to be smiling,” coach Gage said as he put the equipment bag down and approached Eddy & Fido where upon he began scratching Fido upon his rump.

Now, if you are a dog ‘knower,’ as I am, you know what that can do to a dog. And sure enough, in less time than takes to say it, he began humping, and dripping all the more on Eddy’s dress, and on the occasional frenzied misfire, atop her head as well.

“That’s a pretty you’re wearing, Eddy. I didn’t know you owned one. But now that I do, I can only wish you’d wear it more often.”

“Not so long as this bully of a dog is looking to be mean to me.”

“Hey, he’s not a bully, he’s our Mascot. Everyone get’s along with him, Jamie too. You just gotta get to know him. Know when to clutch and when to squeeze.”

“See, problem solved. Now, all I gotta do is figure out how to convince you that it’s way good with me when I see you in the dress. Like tops, like I used to feel when Jamie would strut about like vamp looking suck my blood.”

“But that was back when she was his main squeeze.”

“She isn’t anymore?”

“Nope, not anymore. Like I told her. “If you don’t wake up in the morning thinking about dressing up finely for me, it’s over.”

“Finely,” Eddy asked.

“Yeah, like you you are now, and just for me. Ah, well, I guess that would include the boys and Fido too.”

“I tell you, if I had me a gril like that now, I’d make her my number one squeeze forever & a day.”

----

Chap 5

That night at Home . . .

“Mama, you were right,” Eddy said while hanging her pretty dress up in her closet.

“Of course, mother’s are always right. But tell me anyway, what was I right about?”

“The dress, Mama, the dress. I got a lot of compliments today.

“Oh, anyone special, a boy perhaps?

“Oh, I don’t know, Mama, Maybe yes, maybe no? Live can be so complicated somethings.”

“Oh my, it sounds like someone I know has an admirer.”

“Oh, stop that, Mama. It’s just that I, ah, you know, was thinking, kinda.”

“Yes, Sweetie, thinking about what?”

“Well, I was thinking about the dress, wondering, you know, if it’s okay with you if I wore again tomorrow?”

“No, of course, baby, I want you to look pretty in a dress, but not this one,” she said, holding it up to her nose.

“Swell that!” It smells like a wet dog!”

“Sorry, Mom, I ran into old Mr. Harper and his dog, Perro on the way to the park and he jumped on me.”

“Well, it smells like he pottied on you.”

“Look, today is my Ladys Club day, so I’m going to give Betty a call and tell her you’ll be stopping by her Boutique to buy you another and to just send me the bill.”

Later that day, Eddy, our tomboy, entered Betty’s boutique to buy another when she saw a dress that looked so pretty to her that she couldn’t help but stop to give it a look over.”

“Can I help you, young Man,” Betty, the owned, though to ask Eddy, aka Elizabeth Getty, what in the hell he doing pulling ‘his’ grubby hands on on a girl’s dress.

“Yes, ma'am, name is Elizabeth Getty, and my Mom sent me here to buy a new dress.”

“You’re Elizabeth Getty?” asked, looking Eddy over with dubious eyes.

“Oh, the uniform,” Eddy-Elizabeth said when she saw the lady giving her the once. Sorry ma’am, but you see, I’m a baseball player, a good one, and I’m on my way practice and thought I’d just stop in.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” she sighed with her hand over her palpitating heart.

“Well dear, do you like this dress,” she asked while spreading it to show her the details.

“As you can see, it's a backless, sleeveless, mini in white Chiffon. And I agree I with you, I think it's quite a lovely piece.”

“But, honey, honestly, don't you think it's a bit too risque for a girl your age? I mean look, your back, your arms and legs up to mid-thigh will be bare as a baby's bum.”

“Yes, well, as mama is always telling me, it’s time I learn to be a lady.”

“Oh, yes, this garment will easily turn that trick.” : )

---

Thirty minutes later Eddy left Betty’s boutique with bag in hand, and her her mind in termoil. Cluttered as was with so many questions, so many worries as to cause a riot in her head.

Questions as to why she hadn't just bought the same dress she had worn the day before? Her mother liked it, the boys liked it, as did Butch. Hell, even Fido liked it.

But no, she couldn’t leave well enough alone, she had to buy a dress that had to be the most outragely indecent garb ever made. If not, it surely had to be photo finish runner up.

'Why? Why, why, why did I do it," she asked herself. 'Was I trying too hard to impress or perhaps it’s just something built into my character that compels me to be the best at whatever I do, be it for the good or the bad.’

In my incarative as a boy, it was baseball, baseball, baseball. And now, in my rebirth as a girl, it was my equally intense obsession to be one with butch. To impress upon him my want to please. My want to be his girl.

It had taken Eddy quite some time to negotiate her way through the back ways she traveled to get to the clubhouse so as not to seen or find herself in a situation where she need explain away why it was that she was walking down a pubic thoroughfare in a dress that would have stirred a scandle in nudist colony.

Normally, opening herself up to pubic scrutiny wouldn’t have mattered an iota to her, but this was different. Seeing a boy dressed as a girl, or girl dressed a boy drew scarcely a look nowadays, so common was it. But sight of a girl walking do the street with her naughty parts parts exposed?

No! Definitely, No! that’s not the way to get to where you are going. That’s the way to a padded cell.’’

So, taking the route less traveled by all but the wild things, she eventually arrived at the clubhouse where upon she found Butch Gage & her teammates sprouled about, totally wiped out after a 5 mile run around the city park.

And as a consequence, only Fido was there to greet her when she opened the door. His snout going direct to the spot where the smell drew upon him like a bee to honey. Paying no heed to her efforts to hold him off.

“Don’t waste your time,” Butch, her coach, the man who owns her heart, said as he approached, wearing but a towel that was wagging no less excitedly than was Fido’s.

“Is this the new you, no more baseball?”

“My Mama said it was time for to grow up.”

Well I’ll be damned. Good for her.”

“So I guess that makes you my main Squeeze, and by looks of it, that would include Fido’s as well,” he said, pointing toward to boned-up hound who was now humping her leg with a gusto.

“Of course, as you are new at all this, you have tons yet to learn. For example, how to unstick a stuck zipper without nicking, or how to ‘Spot,’ for a teammate in the weigh room who is looking to build up some muscle.

“You know, the handsomely sculpted muscles along the arms & shoulders he wants to flaunt, as well as exercise that muscle that hangs below the abdomen that need be kept finely tuned.”

“But rest assued we’ll do our part to help you speed up the learning curve. Won’t we boys?” He said while scraching Fido behind his ears, and watching the boys working on a much needed nut . . .

And so as our Elisabeth comes to part ways with her Eddy and sails off to play on her field of dreams, we finally find a glassy-eyed, extraordinary content Elisabeth manifest in all her glory.

A place that was as much in her head as it was in her heart. A place where her ball handling & ball licking skills were scored on the same scorecard that the team used to score the game, and where all to the wonderment of her dear mother, coach Gage, Fido, et al, she was always a big time scorer. Especially with her teammates who could endlessly be heard . . .

“Hey, stop the hogging, Fido. “It’s time Eddy get a chance to suck my balls too.”

The End

Das Ende,

by

Hunsi

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