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codes: M+f+/ hum/beast /anal /con
Note: This story is a bleak, dark tale, not for the squeamish. So if you’ve already decided to step into this puddle of muck, make sure you’ve got a pair of waders handy – Hip high if you can manage it – because you’re going to need them! Peace, brothers.
--
WARNING: This story delves into aberrant sex practices that might well offend you. So if topics such as Sadism and Masochism, among other deviant practices offend you, do not read this story. 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.
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*If you are under eighteen, it is illegal for you to read this story!
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Eddy The Tomboy
Or
(How I learned to love
the bomb)
(An Erotic Horror
Story)
By
Hunsi
Book cover Picture
Click to meet the players:
https://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/HumblePie/Pics/eddy.jpg
Chapter
I
Eddy The Tomboy
It’s summer in
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 Knoxville
Ballers diamond down at
“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 neighborhood like a gone girl. And no one likes a ragamuffin, out of order,
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 ‘
“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 them jocks ever even came close 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 Knoxville 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 she
skipped her way over to the dugout to wait it out alongside 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 Knoxville Smashers.”
“You think? Well, say what will,
it was a beauty.”
“Hey, Eddy,” Buster said, leaning on the cyclone fence 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 you 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 got 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
“Plus, you’re not only tough but pretty and sweet as a cone with sprinkles. 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 what I come to talk
about.”
“No?”
“No! I came to ask if you know
who Butch Gage is?”
“Yeah, he’s the coach of the Knoxville Tigers.”
“Yep, that’s him, and man oh man does he have the 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 Club House
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
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 everyday 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,’ because they don’t have much between their
ears, though they do have the skills & the know-how 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 bunting 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, excuse me, Mr. Nitpick.”
She’s his squeeze!” 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
“This is it, the clubhouse, inside a gardener’s tool shed?”
“No, jerk off, it’s on the other side.
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 we go over this one more time? Would you please explain to me one more time 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 initiation, 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, whatcha 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 nickel for a kiss, a dime for a squeeze, or a quarter to
offer an expert in un-sticking 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 lifted 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 1st 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 dumbbells 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 power
lifters 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 pretending that it was all old
hat, and nothing she hadn’t seen before.
It was all just a guise, of course, so as not to come off as the
innocent, and in the process, punch a hole in her tough boy image.
With respect to the boys who tend to speak with their cocks, it was an
easy enough act to pull off. I mean,
who’d want upset the apple cart anyway?
The same could be said of 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 a 3rd baseman for you boys, a real player,” he
chuckled while pulling down the back of her panties and slapped her ass . . .
“Today you were the spotter, tomorrow the masseuse!”
----
To say that her world had flipped from her all consuming passion for
baseball, baseball, baseball, to feeling that very same passion for a man, even
given the giant that he be, 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 ‘self-abuse,’ 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 her mother woke her up early to make a run to the store
to buy some goods for breakfast.
“It was a bit early and she was a bit bitchy, but she did get up &
did make every effort to do so. But when
she started to gather up her Knoxville Baller’s
pinstripe uniform, cap, cleats & glove to make the run, all that affability
suddenly came to an end.
“Oh no you don’t. Half the town is going to see
you dressed like that.”
“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 in pink that she’d recently bought for
her.
“Isn’t it cute?”
“For goodness sakes, mother,” she sighed in exacerbation. “This isn’t a dress,
this is girl’s worst nightmare.”
“Well, maybe yes, or maybe no, but it doesn’t matter. You’re going to the store and you’re wearing
this, and that’s that.
And so she did, and upon her return, she couldn’t have run back to her
room any faster to change. But who do
you think she ran into when she got there?
“I’m sorry dear, but I’ve 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 Knoxville
Tigers clubhouse, without stopping, without thinking about how that stupid
dress was going to make her the butt of all jokes.
But when I got there I 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 some
pointers on how to improve my game. Oh
well, can’t spent my day standing out here’ she shrugged, and then after
balling up the posted 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 just inside guarding the door with a puzzled 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?”
------
An hour later upon the return of the team…
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, when she heard the
boys cajoling with one another upon their return latter that
afternoon. /./ 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.”
“Why is that buddy boy,” Danny Stone asked? Are you looking forward to catching a glimpse
of some puss. Hell yeah! What are you going to be looking for, her
dick?”
“Fuck off Tommy you turd,” he said as they
pushed open the door where the lot of them scuffed up ballplayers
came face to face with a cowering Eddy holding on protectively to that scant
little dress her mother had made her wear 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,” Mickey 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 can call your daddy a jerk off, but not me, Mr. Fuck
breath.”
“Hey, back off. I was just saying that it don’t take no Einstein to tell
she’s looking forward to something special.”
“And you know what,” he then though to ask?
“No, 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 of 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, don’t go busting my balls.
I just said I wanted to come back to 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 at
least, 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? I mean, it ain’t
like it’s written that a girl has to walk out into the sleet & cold & 9/10th naked for her health. No! They do it because their motor is running,
and they’re looking for a boy, or whatever, to keep their
motor filled with antifreeze.
“Yeah coach, we got that, but what about Fido? That ain’t
antifreeze dripping down her forehead.”
“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 it takes to say it, he began humping, and dripping down upon Eddy’s
dress, and upon the occasional frenzied misfire across the bow, in long pasty
white strains that ran down the side of her head in runnels.
“That’s a pretty dress 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 as 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 gets along with him. You
just gotta get to know him. Know when it safe to strut around in your
pumps, and when you know you’re going to be needing your
galoshes.
But most importantly, if and when things do get all confounded and all knotted
up, when it’s best to just hang loose and go with the flow rather than waste
your time carping.
“So you see, a simple problem, a simple problem solved. That’s how things work around here.”
“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 to 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 are now. Like
Jamie use to dress when playing up the vamp looking to suck out my blood.”
“I tell you, if I had me a girl like that right here, right now, I’d
make her my number one squeeze forever & day.”
----
Chap 5
That night at Home . . .
“Mama, you were right,” Eddy said while hanging her pretty dress up in
her closet.
“Of course, mothers 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? Life can be so complicated sometimes.”
“Oh my, it sounds like someone I know has found herself an admirer.”
“Oh, stop that, Mama. It’s just
that I, ah, you know, was thinking, kind of . . .”
“Yes, Sweetie, what were you thinking about?”
“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 left his stench on you.”
“Look, today is my Lady’s 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 dress to wear when she saw one in the window 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’ was doing
pulling ‘his’ grubby hands on a dress that she had put on display to
attract new customers into her shop.
“Yes, ma'am, name is Elizabeth Getty, and my Mom sent me here to buy a
new dress.”
“You’re Elizabeth Getty?” She asked, looking Eddy over with dubious
eyes.
“Oh, sorry, Madam, the uniform,” Eddy-Elizabeth said when she saw the
lady giving her the once over. “You see,
I’m a baseball player, a good one, and I’m on my way to practice and thought
I’d just stop in on the way.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” she sighed with her hand over her palpitating heart. “You had me worried.”
“Well dear, I see that you like this dress,” she said as she spread it out
on the counter to show her the details.
“As you can see, it's a backless, sleeveless, mini in white
Chiffon. And I agree with you, I think
it's quite a lovely piece.”
“But, honey, honestly, don't you think it's a bit too risqué for a girl
your age? I mean look. If you were to put this on, you’d be exposed
in full from the top of the bust in front to the rise of your buttocks in back,
and your legs bare to within inches of your panty line.
“Yes, well, as mama is always telling me, it’s time I learn to be a
lady.”
“Oh, yes, what a lovely thought, and in that regard I’m must certain this
garment will easily turn that trick.”
: )
---
Thirty minutes later Eddy left Betty’s boutique with
bag in hand, and her mind in turmoil. Her mind, 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 outrageously indecent garb ever
made. If not, it surely had to be photo
finish runner up.
“Why? Why, why
did I do it," she asked herself. “Was
I trying too hard to impress or perhaps it was 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.”
“Whenever I played the part of a boy, it was always
baseball, baseball, baseball. And now, in my rebirth as a girl, it was my
equally intense obsession with becoming one hell of a team girl for the team,
and by equal measure, one hell of a ‘munch for lunch’ for Butch Gage. And given what there was of the dress I wore,
I had every hope of satisfying his hunger in whatever form that took.
Of course, those were my hopes, my dreams, but as to how founded in
reality all this was, filled me with worry, if not down right fright.
Still, I carried on without hesitating, not for a moment, the whole way
long. Walking and negotiate my way
through the back ways I traveled to get to the clubhouse so as not to seen or
find myself in a situation where I need explain away why it was that she was
walking down a pubic thoroughfare in a dress that would have stirred a scandal in
nudist colony.
Normally, opening myself up to pubic scrutiny wouldn’t
have mattered an iota to me, 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 the sight of a girl walking the street
with more of her naughty parts exposed than not?
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, I
eventually arrived at the clubhouse where upon I found Butch Gage & her
teammates sprawled about, totally wiped out after a 5 mile run around the city
park.
And as a consequence, only Fido was there to greet me when I opened the
door. His snout going
direct to the spot where the smell drew upon him like a bee to honey. And worse yet, he paid no heed what so ever
to my efforts to hold him off.”
“Don’t waste your time,” Butch, her coach, the man who owns her heart, said as he approached, wearing nothing
other than a pair of flip-flops & shower towel around his waist that
was wagging no less excitedly than was Fido’s tail.
“My, my, do you look the squeeze, or what! Is this the new you, no more baseball
pinstripes?”
“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
the 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 un-stick 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 assured we’ll do our part to help you
speed up the learning curve. Won’t we
boys?” He said while scratching 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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