A Young Man's Fancy
by Marmot
In which a nervous little male tries out for the baseball team and is chosen, in a way.

************

A Young Man's Fancy

"Yeah kid, whatcha want?"

I looked up to meet Coach Piltdown's eye.  Steeled up my courage.

"Well, I ain't got all day."  Beefy arms crossed over his barrel chest, the 
varsity coach looked at his watch pointedly.  It was now or never.

"Coach, I'd, um, I would like to try out for the team."

"Sorry kid," the coach's eyes twinkled.  "Only students here can join.  But 
we do need a power hitter.  Youse gotta older brother goin' here?"

"Er, no sir," I blushed, inwardly cursing my stature.  Or rather, my lack 
thereof.  "I am enrolled here as a sophomore, in fact."

"Student, eh?"  The big man's amused chuckle struck my ears like a blow.  
"Eh, listen kid.  We's got us a height and weight limit, and I think youse 
is under both.  Heh, heh!"

"Um, I believe you are mistaken, sir."  The day was cool and cloudy, but I 
was starting to sweat.  I never have liked confrontation, which was why I 
was here at the Union High baseball diamond.  The controlled competition of 
sports would teach me valuable skills, and baseball would provide less 
contact than football or soccer would have.  "I meet the weight minimum 
exactly, and the height limits were removed from school district policy last 
year, to allow Moose Patterson to play for Central."

"Hogwash!"  The big man spat derisively.  "The Moose was too big for the 
limits, not too little!"

"Nevertheless, coach."  Don't mumble - meet his eye, I told myself.  "The 
height standard was removed altogether, not simply adjusted."

"Listen, punk!"  A meaty finger poked me painfully in the chest.  "I gotta 
season to win, and I don't need no scrawny little kid gettin' in my way.  
Now why dontcha g'won home to Momma and come back when you're bigger!"

Coach Piltdown poked me again - I was starting to become concerned about 
bruised ribs - and this time put an extra push in the action.  I 
overbalanced and fell on my backside.

The round of laughter that accompanied my downfall added insult to injury.  
Oh, no!  Our conversation had drawn a crowd.  The newly chosen Union 
Wildcats were watching their coach appreciatively.

"Hey look, men!"  The voice was that of "Bruiser" McIntyre.  Not my favorite 
person at this school.  "Francis the Fairy wants to play baseball."

"No he don't, Bruiser."  Mitch Kelley, of course.  The two were inseparable, 
perhaps because together they could almost approximate average human 
intellect.  "SHE just wants to be around us big, strong men.  We turn HER 
on, don't we Francis?"

I looked up at them, twins in their baseball uniforms - neither boy doubted 
they'd make the team - twins in their malicious grins.  I tried not to cry, 
but my vision blurred anyway.

"Now, now, Kelley," chuckled the coach.  "That's not too sportsmanlike.  If 
little Francis wants to play with you big, strong boys, then she - i mean he 
- is entitled to his 'preference.'  HAW, HAW!"

Of course the big man stepped back when Bruiser moved over to me.  He 
couldn't deter me, so he was going to let those bullies chase me away! I 
would have been angry if I was not so afraid.  I stood to my feet, only to 
be pushed back to my knees by the Bruiser.

"Is that it Francis?"  The big bully's eyes sparkled evilly as he held me 
down.  "Do you like boys?  Is that why you wanna be around us?"

"Hey Bruiser, if you let her blow you, maybe she'll go away," suggested one 
of the boys accompanied by the laughter of all the others.  Well, not all.  
I was a boy, but I wasn't laughing.  In fact, I started crying openly when 
Bruiser grabbed me hard by my hair and pulled me toward him.

"L-let me go!"  I sobbed, trying not to think about what part of himself the 
bully was holding my face against.

"You get away from my boyfriend right now!"

The loud, high-pitched voice cut off all the cheers and laughing of the boys 
on the team.  I looked up to see my rescuer.  It was Cynthia Lafleure, newly 
moved here from Ontario.  I had her in History and English, and helped with 
some of her studies.  I had quite a crush on her, but after our argument 
last time I saw her, I never thought she could be my girlfriend.

"Here, take your little boyfriend, you Canadian bitch!"  Bruiser threw me to 
the ground at Cindi's feet.  He tried to look irritated, but I saw he was 
pale, afraid of her.  And good reason, too - she was taller and heavier than 
Bruiser, and a lot stronger, as I was very aware.

"Are you okay, Francois?"  As the big Canadian girl helped me to my feet, I 
saw she was not alone.  Beside her stood two other girls, also big, with 
thickly muscled legs, large, round bosoms and hair tied in thick ponytails, 
like Cindi had.  All three girls wore sweaters, pleated skirts and sandals.

"I'm ok, Cindi."  I nuzzled against her bouncy breasts, both grateful for 
how she felt and also grateful to hide my tears.  "Who are your friends?"

"Let's save the introductions for later, cheri," Cindi purred.  Turning to 
her friends, she became businesslike.  "Marcie, you look after little 
Francois.  Jolie, let's you and me teach these boys some manners."

One of the other girls grabbed me and pulled me out of the way.  I looked up 
into her brown eyes, feeling safe as she cuddled me to her soft breasts.  
"Don't worry, little one," she said.  "Cindi will make sure these boys don't 
bother you or anyone any more."

But it was Jolie that captured my attention.  While Cindy was busily, and 
successfully, picking a fight with Bruiser and his gang, Jolie had gone over 
to Coach Piltdown.

"N-now why don't you girls just - just go away," the coach stammered as she 
sauntered up to him.  "We don't want any trouble, but if I have to I'll call 
security."

"Now, now, Monsieur Coach," Jolie slipped her big arms around his shoulders. 
  "We want to try out for your team."  With a kiss on his stubbled cheek, 
she added.  "We would be grateful to be around you big, strong boys."  
Another kiss, and she slipped one hand down to the coach's pants.  "Very 
grateful."

"OW!"  A high-pitched scream drew my attention, as well as that of Jolie and 
the coach.  Bruiser was kneeling beside Cindi, holding his hands and 
whimpering.  "My hands!  The bitch broke my hands!"

"Now see here--" the coach began, but Jolie put a hand to his hairy jaw and 
turned him to look at her.

"Oh, Monsieur Coach," she purred.  "They are just having fun.  Cindi just 
likes your young men."  She again put a hand to his pants, slipping her 
fingers inside, rubbing, and stroking the bulging flesh beneath.  "Why don't 
you let them play, and we can become better acquainted in the, um, is a 
bullpen, no?"

"Um, yeah little lady."  The coach leered at her.  "It's called a bullpen.  
But--"

"OW!  OH, let me up!"  Cindi had Mitch on his stomach under her, and was 
putting blows into his sides with surgical precision, reducing the bully to 
tears with chilling efficiency.  Bruiser was sitting against the backstop, 
holding his hands and arms, whimpering quietly.

"STOP IT!"  The coach bellowed at them.  "This has gone far enough."  
Turning to Jolie he said, "As for you, young lady--hey!"

"Eek!"  Jolie stepped back from Coach Piltdown, her face a comical 
exaggeration of shock and horror.  "Monsieur Coach, what do you think you 
are doing?"

The coach's pants were undone and his pants and underwear were around his 
ankles, his erect penis bobbing up and down.  Blushing furiously, he tried 
to pull up his pants, but Jolie was standing with one foot on them.  She 
grabbed his erect member with one hand and said, "Marci, Cindi!  Monsieur le 
Coach is trying to become fresh with me!"

There was a chorus of gasps, as the girls, the boys on the team, all of us 
turned to look at Coach Piltdown, caught with his pants down and and his 
penis in a girl's hand.

"Hmmm..." mused Cindi.  "It seems the boys are not the only ones in need of 
some discipline today.  What do you think, girls?"

"Yes, he is very naughty!"  Jolie was stroking the stricken coach's penis, 
keeping it erect.  "Very naughty indeed!"

"What're ya gonna do with 'im?" asked Marci.

"Oh, I'll think of something."  Jolie giggled as she pulled the older man by 
his hand and his penis.  Coach Piltdown bellowed an oath and tried to pull 
his hand away, but then she did something to it.  He sort of turned pale and 
gasped.  "Naughty, naughty, Monsieur Coach!"

Piltdown was so dumbfounded, and his hand in such pain from the look of it, 
that he just let Jolie lead him, shuffling with his pants around his ankles, 
down to the bullpen.

"Now, what about you boys?"  Cindi looked around, but none of the other 
Wildcats wanted to face her.  "Were these two the only ones to harm mon 
petit Francois?"

Nobody said anything, but a couple of the boys nodded.  I was shocked how 
easily my gender would betray its own to avoid punishment.  Loud slaps 
started coming from the bullpen, accompanied by the sound of the coach 
crying like a baby.  Maybe there is something to be said about avoiding 
punishment, I thought.

Cindi picked up Mitch by his hair.  He whimpered, gingerly getting to his 
feet.  "So, you boys are not naughty like this one, eh?"  Most of the boys 
shook their heads.  "Good, then the rest of you are allowed to stay on the 
team."

"As for you..."  Turning her attention to Mitch, she gently helped him off 
with his uniform.  He was so cowed by this time that he made no struggle.  
As she worked, Cindi explained to her audience, "We don't let naughty boys 
play on our team.  No team, no uniform."  As she reached for his underwear, 
Mitch shook his head and grabbed the waistband.  "P-please, no!" he sobbed.

"Poor naughty boy," purred Cindi as she took his hands in hers.  "You still 
don't know your place."  All the boys, myself included, watched with horror 
as she squeezed Mitch's hands until he sank to his knees and cried out in 
pain.  I flinched reflexively as I heard two distinct snaps.

"There, there," she soothed the boy as he wept unashamedly.  "You won't be 
swing any more bats, nor any more punches from now on.  But don't you worry, 
little boy."  Squatting down, she kissed his forehead and held him close.  
"One of us girls will always protect you."

When she said this, the former bully really started crying, not even 
noticing as Cindi helped him to his feet, removed his underwear and led him 
to the bullpen, where the spanks - and coach's cries, now higher pitched and 
more desperate - still sounded.

As she passed by Bruiser, she said sweetly to him, "Stay right there, and 
get naked for me, handsome--Oh!  Sit still and don't try to use your hands." 
Bruiser sort of shrunk away from her, but he sat still.

I looked over at him, then at the Wildcats.  None of us said anything, but I 
could tell they were as intimidated by Cindi and her friends as I was.

Cindi called us over when she returned.  She swiftly, yet gently, stripped 
Bruiser, careful not to jar his hands or arms.  Also careful not to frighten 
him too much.  Still, when she told him his punishment for being naughty was 
just beginning, he started crying.  And when she pulled his arm to help him 
stand, he gasped and made these high-pitched, nearly noiseless sounds.  
Alarmed, Cindi adjusted her hold, lifting him not unlike a baby.  As she 
cradled the naked boy in her arms and carried him to the bullpen, she called 
back to Marci.  "You have the team, chere Marci.  Be nice to them!"

The Wildcats looked fearfully at Marci.  Even I felt nervous, and she was 
holding me gently to her breast.  "Ok, boys," she began.  "Now that you know 
what girls are capable of, I want you to go home and think about that.  Be 
back here in time for practice next time, and we'll have fun."

Still holding me with one hand, she grabbed one of the Wildcats and pulled 
the surprised boy to her.  She kissed him long and hard, until he started to 
melt into her embrace.  Then she gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek, and 
said to everybody, "Ooh-la-la!  We'll have lots of fun.  See you next week!"

As the boys left, Marci led me to one of the bleachers.  "Cindi will want to 
talk to you later, little Francois.  We will wait here together."

The sounds of the coach and the two boys apparently getting spanked 
continued from the bullpen.  The spanks sounded surprisingly sharp, and the 
cries became so plaintive that I was afraid in spite of myself.

"There, there," Marci comforted me.  "It's alright if the sound of a 
spanking frightens you - that'll help you be a respectful and obedient boy."

As if to punctuate her statement, a differently pitched whapping sound came 
from the bullpen, accompanied by tormented screams from all three males.  I 
shuddered at the sound and clung Marci, weeping fearfully.

"H-here little one," Marci's voice was ragged, and I noticed she was flushed 
and breathing hard.  She kissed my forehead and dried my tears.  "You 
needn't cry, chere Francois.  Marci has just the place where you will be 
safe, where you will barely hear your little male friends having their asses 
spanked by your girlfriend."

I didn't dare object as she pushed me to my knees and stood to pull off her 
panties.  But I was more than a little concerned that she seemed to be 
getting turned on from hearing boys - and a man - being spanked until they 
cried like infants.  When she sat down and pulled me between her muscular 
legs, I kissed her thighs lovingly until she grabbed my head and pulled me 
firmly against her hot, wet sex.  I knelt there, kissing her vagina 
passionately, pushing my tongue inside her as far as I could.

She pulled her skirt down over me, and we stayed like that for a while.  
Twice she forced me hard against her sex until I couldn't breathe.  But even 
after she came, she kept me there, gently moving my face against herself 
until I got the message and started licking again.  I was quite tired, but 
the sound of the protracted spanking Cindi and Jolie were giving the other 
males spurred me to continued efforts to please this big, powerful female.  
I was beginning really to enjoy pleasuring her.

When finally Cindi and Jolie returned, alone, from the bullpen, I was quite 
exhausted.  I was also fearful to be caught orally pleasuring Cindi's 
friend, but she said nothing was more natural than for me to ask a female if 
I may kneel before her and pleasure her sexually.  I was too shocked to say 
that it was Marci's idea.

I was not surprised when Cindi told Marci that the three of them were 
Wildcats now.  "Bartholomew and Mitchell won't be able to play now, so we're 
taking their positions," she explained.  "Jolie will be 'helping' coach."

"Congratulations, Cindi!"  I said, trying to mean it.  "You will be better 
players than those two, and having you around will be better for the team 
too."

"Oh, poor little Francois!"  Cindi smiled as she pulled my into her bosom.  
I nuzzled my moist cheeks against her soft, bouncy breasts as she continued. 
"Is my sweet little boyfriend worried about not making the team?"

To my own surprise, I just nodded against her breast.  Stop being such a 
baby!  I told myself.  But I felt so small and helpless next to her.

Holding me at arms length, Cindy exclaimed brightly, "Surprise, little one!  
You also are on our team!"  Seeing my look of frank disbelief, she 
explained.  "We have created a new position for you.  You will be my own 
personal esclave!  You will get me water when I am thirsty, and you will 
help me with my bat and glove, and whatever else I tell you to."

"I get to be your..." I didn't want to say it.  I was only in second year 
french, but I had an idea what an 'esclave' was from her description.

"Only if you still want to be on my team, mon chere!"  Cindi smiled, happily 
assuming that I would want nothing else.

"Oh Cindi, thank you!"  I reached up and hugged her neck.  Standing on my 
tiptoe, I kissed her below her ear.  She bent down and kissed me deeply, 
pushing her tongue into my mouth.  As I stood on my toes, with this big, 
loving, sexy girl tongue-fucking my mouth, I realised that I really would 
want nothing more than to be with her.  Even as her slave.