The Squaws By Hardie Linda beats up a boy and Anne finishes him off. This story contains explicit sexual material and should be read by adults only. It began for me when I was ten year old. I was given a squaw outfit to go to a fancy dress party and I fell in love with the simple buckskin shift, the headband with the single feather and the light, leather moccasins, which were so comfortable on my feet. I took to wearing the outfit long after the party was gone and forgotten, and spent some time in the library looking up stuff on squaws and how they lived. I was fascinated to find out how, in some tribes, the young girls learnt how to use weapons, just like the boys; how they could run and wrestle as well as the boys, and then, when they became women, they took over the duties of torturing enemies who were unfortunate enough to fall into the hands of the tribe. I shared all my information with my friend, Anne, and we pretended that we were Red Indian maidens. We practised running and wrestling and even made bows and arrows, though they weren't much good. "What we need is an enemy to torture," I told Anne one day. "We could strip him naked, tie him to a tree and flay him alive!" "How do you do that?" asked Anne. I had no idea, but the thought of having a naked `him' at my mercy made my limbs tremble with excitement. "What about the horrible Bennett," said Anne, shuddering in distaste as she said the name of the street bully. "We could lure him into the woods, overpower him, strip him naked and torture him until he promised not to bully anyone ever again." This sounded so cool! "We could tie him up and punch him, and, and.." I wasn't sure what else to do. The squaws in my reading had used knives a lot, but that seemed a bit drastic, even for Bennett! "Squash his balls!" said Anne gleefully. "I hit my brother in the balls once. He went down real fast. He was so totally at my mercy! I held him by the hair and slapped his face a few times and made him cry. I told him never to come into my room without knocking again." This was fascinating. Anne's brother was three years older than us. The thought of her holding him down and smacking him made me quite light headed as I forgot to breathe, what with all the exciting thoughts running through my mind. I could see Bennett's balls in my hand. I could see me smacking his face. Things were going on in my loins which had never happened before. Magical things. Wet, melting, things which made me feel so good. I had to do it. I had to become a squaw and torture my enemy - Bennett! As it turned out, we didn't have to do any luring. By one of these wonderful coincidences that make life so marvellous to live, Bennett fell into our hands all by himself. We were both dressed in our squaw dresses. The tunics were very short by now and were more like skirts, as we'd grown a lot over the past few months, and the fringed hems came only half way down our sturdy, preteen thighs. We were trying to make a little wigwam out of branches and string when Bennett appeared on the scene. Anne and I just looked at each other as the boy began to sneer at our squaw dresses and our handiwork in his usual, horrible manner. "Look," he said, "it'll all collapse if you move this branch!" He pulled the branch. "What'd I tell you!" he smirked, as the wigwam fell to bits. "You, you bully!" blurted Anne, and threw herself at the boy, arms flailing wildly. Bennett was taken completely by surprise, and a couple of punches landed on the boy's face, making him cover up in a defensive crouch, body bent, arms over his face. Anne, mistaking his posture for surrender, stopped her attack and stood there, hands on hips, berating him for wrecking our wigwam. And that's when Bennett hit her. His fist lashed out and smashed into Anne's wide open, fragile body. She gave a loud gasp and sank to the ground clutching her stomach. Bennett moved in and raised his fist to hit her again, and that's when I stepped in. I felt no fear, just a surge of excitement. I was so high on adrenaline that everything seemed to be happening very slowly. As Bennett changed his attack and swung his fist at me, I had loads of time to avoid it. I just knew what to do. I swayed aside, then swung my own fist into Bennett's balls. The effect was most satisfactory. The boy let out a cry of pain and doubled over, knees bent, his hands grasping his injured balls. I carefully judged the distance and lashed my foot into Bennett's throat. Now it was the boy's turn to go down. He dropped at my feet, gurgling and gasping. I stomped on his head and kicked him in the ribs as he grovelled around, then left him moaning on the ground as I went to see to Anne. My friend looked quite pale as she sat clutching her stomach. "I'll be all right in a minute," she gasped. "He took me by surprise... Winded...Watch out, he's getting up!" Bennett was indeed getting up, if somewhat unsteadily. I sauntered towards him, swinging my hips in the arrogant manner we girls have when we know we're on top. And I could see from his eyes that the boy was scared. I mean, he towered over me by about a foot, and outweighed me by 40 or 50 pounds. He was a well built, muscular male, and he was scared of me - a chit of a girl! "Want to fight me then Bennett," I challenged. "Want to fight, or are you too scared! Scared of being beaten up by a girl!" I could see Bennett flushing as I teased him and saw him bunch his muscles ready to attack. "Come on, then, big boy," I sneered, "if you've got the balls to fight!" He was so predictable. One mighty swing, which would have taken my head off had it landed, and he was totally off balance. I went in like a flash, scything my foot into that tender spot just below the knee, crippling him, making him cry out in pain. Then I was gone, circling, watching, waiting my chance. I'd never felt so good! Everything was so clear! I went in again, feinting one way, then sliding past a ham like male fist, and getting his knee again. As he half stumbled on his crippled leg, I waded into him with a barrage of punches to his hard, male body, enjoying the sound of my tiny fists whacking into him; hearing him gasp as my blows bored into his stomach muscles. He covered up and started to retreat. I was so exhilarated. A big, tough boy being driven back by the flying fists of a girl! Heaven! I could feel my pony tail jerking around on the back of my head as I tore into him. My hair was dancing, my feet were dancing, and my arms worked like pistons as I fought the big, male bully! His fists were useless as he swung ponderous punches at me. They were so easy to avoid. I just danced in a hit him anywhere I liked, tiring him, winding him, hurting him, destroying his fighting spirit with my female ferocity. He wasn't even looking at me now. His head was down on his big, barrel like chest, and he was just swinging wildly. I drove him back until he staggered up against a tree. Giving him no respite, I drove in and pinned him to the trunk with punches. As he doubled over, I let him have a big uppercut which snapped his head back (and hurt my hand, by the way!) and all but knocked him out. He was helpless. His legs were trembling, and I'm sure he would have slumped to the ground then and there had I not held him up against the tree trunk. I jammed one arm across his throat and forced my knee up between his legs to prop him up. Then I really laced into him! Tears were streaming down the big, powerful, boy's face as I pulped his stomach muscles with my fist. "Stop, please, no more." he moaned, as I methodically knocked all the fight out of him. When I tired of hitting the boy, I removed my knee and pinned him with one hand. "Open you legs wide, Bennett," I ordered. Moaning with pain and fear, the boy obeyed. I drove my knee into his balls! The force of the move sent my soft leather skirt swirling above my smooth, girl thighs, as the boy yelled once, then collapsed at my feet. My tiny, newly evolving breasts heaved with pride as I stood over the battered body of the stricken male. I'd beaten him up real good! Me, a little girl, had beaten up a big, powerful boy, and he was lying moaning at my feet to prove it! Adrenaline was flowing. I wanted him naked. I wanted to torture him. "Get your clothes off!" I kicked Bennett in the ribs to emphasise my command. Anne had moved up on the other side of him and kicked him as well. Her eyes were shining. "Make him strip! Get him naked. Then we'll torture him!" She bent over the floundering young man and began undressing him. She sat on his legs and took off his trainers and socks. Then she turned round and straddled him. Holding the terrified boy by the hair, she cocked her fist and drove a punch into the helpless boy's face. "Take your clothes off, Bennett, or we'll take them off for you!" she snarled. I could feel my insides melting with pleasure as I watched the tiny girl subdue the large, muscular boy, making him cry, forcing him to do her bidding even though he was much bigger and stronger than she was. But it was me who had knocked all the fight out of him. His will to resist was gone. Meekly, sobbing with shame, the boy stripped himself naked. "Get back against the tree," I told him. My voice trembled. I'd never seen a naked young man before and the sight of his big cock, dangling down over two well hung balls was fascinating. Anne got some of the string we'd been using to make our wigwam and tied his hands behind the tree. The boy was helpless, completely at the mercy of two embryo squaws! "Is his cock as big as your brother's?" I asked Anne out of interest, as I flicked Bennett's dick with my hand. "Just about," said Anne. "You can make it stand up really big if you like. Just hold his cock in your hand and stroke the bit under his balls." I could feel Bennett's body tauten as I worked my hands over his genitals. His cock stiffened under my female fingers and soon stood out proudly from his body, throbbing for relief as he thrust his pelvis forward. He moaned with pleasure as I stroked his balls, and I suddenly realised we were supposed to be torturing him, not pleasuring him! But it was too late. I gasped as Bennett's whole body spasmed and his cock fired great globules of sperm into the air. I let go his cock and it danced about like a loose hose, splashing sperm in all directions. Anne was furious, and gave the boy no time to enjoy his shuddering climax. She leaped in, grabbed him by the hair and began slapping his face back and forwards, calling him names, and really losing it as she waded into him! Much to my amazement, in no time at all, Bennett's cock was swollen hard again. Panting from her exertions, Anne stopped slapping Bennett and stepped back. "He likes being beaten up by girls," she scoffed. "Look at his hard on!" She stood in front of the boy, legs astride, hands on hips, her eyes flashing from her pretty face as she mocked our victim. My loins were melting again as I took in the scene of a frail young girl totally dominating a tough male. This was so wonderful. I'd never felt this good before. Bennett's cock was thrusting outwards in a massive erection, quivering for attention as we girls stared at it in wonder. I remembered our aim, moved in and got hold of Bennett's big balls in my little hand. I had no previous experience of holding a boy's balls. Somehow, I just knew I could control him through these big, squishy organs. I squeezed. Bennett's face screwed up in agony as he screamed. "Promise me, Bennett, that there will be no more of your bullying! Promise!" I tightened my grip on his balls once more. Sweat poured from his anguished face as he promised. "If I hear of you bullying anyone ever again," I told him quietly, "I'll come for you and beat you up, just as I've beaten you up to-day. Then I'll torture your balls much worse than I've done so far and you'll never get a hard on again. You dig?" Bennett nodded. Tears flooded down his cheeks, as sobs wracked his big, powerful frame. "Can I finish him?" said Anne, excitedly. "Go on then." I stepped back, my body tingling with expectation at the thought of what a little girl was going to do to our male victim. Anne stood in front of the trembling boy. She reached out and stroked his cock with her little girl fingers until it probed massively from his thrusting pelvis. Then, when it seemed as if he was about to climax once more, the girl smashed her tiny fist into his dangling balls. We left Bennett slumped against the tree. We met some of our girl classmates and told him where to find him and heard later that they'd also given him a good hiding. But it was me who beat him up. It was me, a ten year old girl who'd fought and beaten a bigger, older boy. And I'd never felt so alive in all my life! Maybe I'd be lucky enough to find some other boys to fight! The end.