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Introduction:

A man becomes enraged at the town tomboy out doing his son. He hatches a plan to get rid of her.
It’s Sin to Kill a Tomboy
By Millie Dynamite


He hated her, little overachieving, athletic, ripped teen girl who made his son look as he operated in slow-motion. She could pitch, catch play any position infield or outfield. For years, his son had played her on opposing teams or he had coached her on his son’s team. She out ran, out hit, and out hustled everyone else. At 18 years of age, she played baseball for nine seasons. The team she was on won the championship six years and second place three years. She hadn't lost a single game as starting pitcher in three years.

He hated her burr hair cut, her hard-muscled arms and legs, her washboard flat tummy, and small round ass. The cunt had won player of the year four years. She took home the pitcher of the year five times and runner-up three years. For nine long years, she led the league in home runs and runs driven in, and every other award they gave at least once. Fucking bitch was a damn Tomboy, soon to be a member of the pussy munching bitch society if she wasn’t already.

Bitch wore her tops as loose as she cold to hide what little tit she had. Even at eighteen he doubted she even needed a bra. He gotten her in the lottery this year his son was her closest competitor, but he didn’t hold a candle to her. She would probably hit thirty home runs this year. Could be more, she had hit thirty-eight the previous year with five games where she hammered it multiple times out of the park. One game she hit three home runs. But he knew her kryptonite and just like superman it could kill her, or maybe superwoman, that was what he thought the bitch believed she was. There were twenty games this year. Two a week for two months and two weeks with three games. Then of course the playoffs eight more games if you go all the way. She wouldn’t go all the way through this season and steal his son’s glory- not going to happen.

He had suffered more than a thousand insults because of her, often veiled as compliments. “Your boy did really well this year, no shame in coming in second to Alex.” Then there was the, “If it weren't for Alex your boy would have won all the trophy’s.” He knew what they meant you boy can’t even compete with a girl. Well, that shit is about to end. He coached the little bitch this year and he had a plan. It was the day after school let out, still may two weeks before the season opens but practice would start today.

Alex decided to wear a black, very loose fitting sleeveless t-shirt and black shorts today. Under the t, she wore a tight fitting tube to hold everything flat. She dawned her team hat, brim out front like all players should wear their caps, well the catcher can wear it backward, no on else. She wore black shoes and got her special bat, the aluminum bat that her father bought her the year before he was killed. He died in Afghanistan two years before in a helo accident. She had dedicated the season to his memory the year before, every home run was for him. She planned on topping that this year. Her goal was to be the first female to play for the home team, the Colorado Rockies.

At first, she planned to ride her bike to the field but decided to run it would be a better type of exercise. She ran hard the two miles she should arrive about ten minutes before practice but she got there they were putting up equipment. The coach stood there looking at her with an odd look on his face.

“What the,” he broke off, “why are you so late? Practice began at 2:00 we just finished it is almost 4:00 little girl.” God, she hated him calling her little girl. “Okay, Alex, I’ll stay and let you at least get some batting practice but damn girl learn how to tell time.” The other left including his son Bobby. Alex hated, Mr. Heckler, he was mean, short tempered, and foul-mouthed. He made rude comments insulting her when no one could hear him.

“My mom said you said it was at 4:00!” She yelled out at him and pounded her bat into the dirty.

“Your mom was wrong, I said 2:00. Now get at the batter’s box and bat left-handed for now.” Heckler took to the mound.

“You’re right-handed, I only bat left-handed against lefties,” she complained.

“I’m the manager,” he barked back at her, “Do what I tell you.” The first ball he threw to her Alex slammed in a line drive that barely missed his head. He glared at her for a moment and threw her another ball. She connected with good and soared over the right filed fence. Looking around he saw they were alone. This was the most remote field and had a high fence around it. Throwing a third time again she hit it dead center, it ascended to its pinnacle mid-center field clearing the center field wall by eight feet. “I don’t believe you have given your usual effort so far.” Alex couldn't believe him and her temper flared.

“I hit the last two out of the park,” she howled at him. Heckler ran up to her she stood there not comprehending the danger. It dawned on her she was in trouble just before her arrived at where she stood, his arm raised up, hand clenched into a fist. She turned to run and he struck the five-foot-one-inch girl in the back of her head. Face down she fell into the dusty outfield. She wasn’t out, not completely that was. He pounced on her and he felt his grimy hand to her mouth. He forced them into her mouth and screamed in her ear to swallow them. Dragging her to her feet he put two fingers over her nose shutting off her breath and kept his hand clutched over her mouth. The peanuts trickled down her throat.

He held her there against his hard body as the nuts went to work. She felt the blisters burst forth in her mouth and down her throat. Her mouth and face itched as her lungs grew labored and her nose began to run. Her hand went to her back pocket, but Mr. Heckler had already removed it, her EpiPen.

Grabbing the back of her t, he put his hand down in the back of the tube as well. Holding the pen in front of her “You want it bitch?” Alex nodded her head. Letting go of her shirts he put his hand into the back of her pants clutching the material. He yanked her off her groud, carrying her up the bleachers two stairs at a time. At the top, he unlocked the announcer’s booth and roughly threw her on the couch face down falling on top of her.

“Well, then you have to get fucked a few times,” his voice was soft but sinister. She struggled to breathe and croaked out something he didn’t understand. “What?”

“I am going to die if you don’t give me my shot.” Around her mouth were little blisters and the snot poured from her nose. His hand clamped over her mouth again and more nuts were pushed into her mouth. Again he made her swallow them and the reaction grew worse.

Reaching under her he unbuttoned and unzipped her pants. Pulling them off her ass he hissed, “First I’ll fuck like a fag fucks his lover.” With that, he put some greasy stuff on her butt. She heard his zipper then felt a roundish thing pressing on her asshole. Her breathing grew more ragged she tried to push up but the reaction she had kept her from moving. One inch, then two her ass yield but attempted to resist he pushed in more then he began to rock it in and out at a fast.

It hurt her bad, but she realized it wasn’t as bad as she thought. The bad stuff was her breathing and spreading physical reaction to the nuts. Her heart was racing but whether it was fear or the nuts she didn’t know. What did he do with her injector? She didn’t know where it was. She saw it fall to the floor as he moved his hand to the armrest of the couch. She would bide her time as long as she thought she could.

Deeper in then out he hammered it in her ass. Sudden she felt wet stuff spraying inside her rectum. He pulled out and stood in front of grabbing her face he pulled he to his softening cock. “Suck me hard bitch, or feed yo more nuts and break your little antidote.” Falling off the couch she knelt in front of him and started to clean the shit, blood, cum and sticky jelly crap off his dick. Slowly she did like the girls she saw on the internet. Licking, sucking and running her mouth over the nasty little thing. No wonder it didn’t hurt much, it was tiny. Maybe three and half inches, perhaps up to four. Her hand dropped to the floor and picked up the pen.

Sucking him good and hard she placed the injector on her thigh. Suck, suck, down the little base back to the small head. Push the button, the needle stuck into her and the relief went to work in an instant. Suck, suck keep sucking make him think everything is fine for him. She pushed the pen under the couch and kept on sucking him. Her pants down at her knees she touched his balls lightly and ran her fingers over them.

“That’s its cunt I’m going to tear your pussy apart you make me nice, stiff, and ready. Going to make you a woman.” He told her thinking she was really getting to this. She locked her fingers on his balls and squeezed hard. Moving back his cock spurted over her face as he screamed out in pain. She balled up her fist and hit his ball-sack as hard as she could. Crumpling to the floor he rolled around screaming how he was going to tear her apart limb by limb.

Pulling her pants up as she ran to the door. She turned and hissed at him, “You got a little dick. I changed diapers on babies with pricks that big.” the drug rushed through her system and the effects of her reaction began to subside. Running out from the room she hustled down the stairs. She concealed herself at the base of the bleachers. Getting up he put his cock and balls back in his pants and zipped up. Running out all he could think of was he had to find her and killed her. He couldn’t let the bitch tell on him. Running down the stairs as faster than had run up them he again took two steps at a time, coming to the bottom he felt something hit his ankles and he tumbled down head first.

Swift and agile, she ran up behind and hitting down stuck his back. He screamed out and she hit him again.Striking him another very hard, leaving her feet when the bat him, something cracked loud. Mr. Heckler whimpered that she had broken something.

“I think you broke a rib and one of my shoulder blade, you fucking tomboy!” she hit one of his legs time after time until there was a loud crack. “Damn it bitch, you broke a leg.” She smashed the bat down on one of his hands then. At that point she reached under him and unbuttoned his pants, unhooked his belt and pulled down his zipper.

“Let's see how you like it up the ass Heckler.” Pulling his pants off his ass checks she shoved the handle of the bat into his butthole. The endcap found resistance but she pushed hard and it slid in. Hard she pushed then yanked it nearly out only to shove it back. In and out deeper each time. She thrust the handle inside of him until all the grip tape was inside of him. She pumped his rectum for a long time. He screamed for help, pleaded for her to stop, his eyes cried tears of pain from her abuse. Yanking it out she forced him over on his back.

“Give my dick a blowjob you fucking micro-picked son of a bitch.” She put it at his mouth, “Clean all your shit and blood off of it first,” following her instructions his heart rushed with fear. When he finished cleaning it, she bashed it into his mouth, shatter teeth. She plunged it into the back of his throat and jerked it out and back. He gagged and spewed spittle which plummeted back to his face. The look on her face was harsh, mean, with no sign of mercy. He was in fear of his life.

“I’m going to kill you, bastard! Not sure what I do after that. But you are dead motherfucker!” She stood up and raised the bat over her head then struck it down on his chest. Time after time she raised the bat and then smashed it down again to the mark. Ribs cracked, the bones in his arms shattered. She hit his face, his crotch, and legs. Repeated each blow several times before moving to a new mark. She beat him long after he died. Wiping the blood from the bat she then washed in and dried it. She got one of the equipment bags dumping out all but few balls and bats.

She hurried to her house and got the spare EpiPen’s. Alex shoved them inside a pocket on the bag, still inside their plastic boxes. Making up her mind was easy. She wanted to do this it for a long time. What would happen now she didn’t know. Putting all the clothing she could in the equipment bag she left her mothers house for the last time. Alex peddled her bike to the turnpike. She dumped the bike in the bushes and climbed the steep embankment. Walking down the side of the road she held her thumb out and swung her hips slightly. The car pulled over an older man smiled at her as his passenger side window slide down to an electric hum.

“Need a ride, little girl.” She hated being called that, but she forced a smile on her face.

“Sure-nuff do,” she smiled at him and opened the door. “Fer as far as you can take me.” Her thick Southern accent thrilled to him as did her fit strapping muscled body. She could see the lust in his eyes and the bulge in his pants. She wondered how much money this old coot had on him. Putting her right leg up on the dashboard she turned to him and gave half a smile. The bulge in his pants mounded up just a bit more.
4 comments

falseprofitReport 

2018-01-23 08:24:02
Nice to her win.im gonna check to see if you have more, but a teen black widow killer of men would be hot

Anonymous readerReport 

2015-09-04 12:01:06
i hope you are going to continue this saga

Anonymous readerReport 

2015-08-26 21:33:49
In baseball you bat left against righties and right against lefties. Just saying.

Anonymous readerReport 

2015-08-26 07:06:17
It was getting good... and then you had her survive and him die.

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