Pantsed

By NAMB

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This story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced nudity, spanking, and/or sexual activity of preteen and young teen children. This is fantasy, and the author in no way endorses or practices these things on real life. If you are not of legal age in your community to read or view such material, please leave now.
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Pantsed

Sally giggled in my ear, "You mean you really saw Bobby’s thing?"

"Of course I did," I replied, "Frank pulled down his pants when they were playing basketball."

"And Bobby just let him do it?"

"No, silly, two other boys, Frank’s friends, grabbed him as the was ready to take a shot and Frank just reached out and pulled down his shorts. Everything came off. Jenny and some of her friends saw too."

"Man, it must be embarrassing to be naked in front of your own sister. But she's what, 13? Two years older than him. She probably saw her mom changing his diapers as a baby."

I thought about that and said, "You know who I'd really like to see, Frank himself!"

"Frank! He's in high school. He even drives a car. I don't think anyone could take his pants down."

"I got an idea!"

Sure enough, Sally and I found Frank and the boys playing basketball at the park. During the break, we approached him.

"Hi Sally. Hi Barbara," he said.

I turned on my cute little girl charm like I do when I try to get something out of daddy. "Frank, that was a neat trick you pulled on Bobby yesterday. It must be great to be so strong and smart to do something like that."

Frank grinned. I knew I had him going so I continued. "How did Bobby take it?"

"Oh, he's pissed off at me, but he'll get over it. It's just fun."

"You're the real leader of this group and all the other boys listen to you," I said. "Bobby can't stay mad at you. Besides you're bigger and stronger and in charge so like what is he going to do? He has to take it, doesn't he?"

Frank nodded, "Yeah, you're right."

"You could probably pants any one of them. All the boys will have to take it if you want them to."

Frank grinned again. He gave me a wink and said, "Stick around kid. I'll show you who's boss." He left and talked to his two friends.

The game resumed, and Frank and his two friends grabbed another younger boy. Before he knew it, he was on one of the picnic tables with the boys running around with his shorts and underwear. The boy covered his groin with his hands, but Frank and his two buddies taunted him from the court. "Come and get them."

A short game of "keep away" ensued much to the delight of us girls watching. The kid was probably 10 or 11, our age, but it was interesting to watch him be embarrassed this way.

Some of the other boys complained, "Hey, we're here to play basketball. How about it?" So Frank gave a sign for his henchmen to give the boy back his clothes. The kid was crying, but Frank tussled his hair and said, "Hey, it's just a game - fun. Come on, let's play." I couldn't believe it, but Frank actually talked the kid into resuming play.

Frank looked over towards us. Sally blew him a kiss. I mouthed, "You Rule."

The next day we took up our position on the sidelines. As Frank went by I whispered, "You're so cool. Are you going to do it again today?"

He did! This time the kid was older, maybe 12 or even 13 and was really pissed off, but he came back the following day.

From then on Frank would pick a victim for his pantsing and Sally and I and a small entourage of girls were there to witness the nearly daily show.

It was time for phase two of the plan. Sally and I knew the sisters of Frank's two big friends, so we used them to get to their parents and we squealed. We told them what their sons were doing at the playground, and got them grounded. They would not be around to back Frank up.

The next day we got to the other boys in the park before Frank got there.

"Who does Frank think he is, pulling down your pants all the time?" I put to the group. "I wouldn't let him get away with that, and I'm a GIRL."

That comment started some murmuring in the crowd.

"But Frank's bigger than us," one of the boys said, voicing the concern of the group.

"Yes," I nodded, "he's bigger than any ONE of you, but he's not bigger than ALL of you."

I let that sink in for a while and then added. "You can take him if you work together. If you don't do it, then you are all sissies." I made the time honored "shame, shame" motion of rubbing one index finger along the other as if slicing off a foreskin. I walked off the court and sat at one of the picnic tables to watch things develop.

Frank arrived and the game started. Nothing seemed to happen for a while until the ball bounced in our direction. I put my foot on it, and made the "shame, shame" gesture again. The boys got the message. One of them came up to me and retrieved the ball. He then walked back onto the court and whispered to some of his friends.

Play had hardly resumed when one boy grabbed Frank. Frank yelled out in protest, "Hey that's a foul, you can't do that." Another boy had come up and grabbed him. Then another ... and another. Some of the boys were hesitant but eventually all joined in.

Frank didn't have a chance. He was overwhelmed. Uttering obscenities that were heard half way across the park, he was carried to OUR table. All the pantsings before was done on the other side of the court.

“I’ll get you guys; you’ll see. I’ll pull the pants down on every one of you.”

Frank was still snarling when they got him on the table.

"Look at that, he's crying!" It wasn't true when I said it, but the accusation was enough to cause him to cry. Also, I wanted him to know that Sally and I were there witnessing his entire humiliation.

“Look at that,” Sally said, “You think a boy as old as Frank would have a bigger one.”

“I know. I’ve seen you at our sleepovers. You’d think he would have at least as much hair down there as we do.”

It wasn’t totally true. Frank had more hair than half a sleepovers worth of girls. He also had the largest penis any of us girls had ever seen.

“Sally, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“What’s that?”

“What it looks like when it gets big.”

“Yeah, I’d like to see that. You do it.”

“OK, smarty-pants.” I reached out and grabbed his penis.

“Hey, she’s touching his thing!” one of the boys said.

“Is she allowed to do that?” another said.

“She’s doing it,” said a third.

It may have shocked the boys, but none of them were brave enough to stop me.

I started squeezing and twisting it around. Finally another boy said, “You’re doing it wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re supposed to be jerking on it.”

“How?”

“Let me show you.” He actually reached in and I pulled my hand back.”

All of us girls watched as he pulled the skin on Frank’s penis over the head and then back off over and over. The boys watched too, but I suspected that they knew how to do this.

The boy gave Frank a couple more pumps and said, “Do you got it?”

I nodded.

Sally said, “Go to it, girl!”

I looked at Frank’s penis. It was already partially hard. I wrapped my hand around it and did what I saw the boy do moments before.

“Am I doing it right?”

“You’ll know soon enough.”

“How?”

“If you’re doing it right, you’ll make him cum. He’ll shoot his sperm and when he does, keep pulling until he stops.”

I had no idea what I was doing or what was in store for me, but I did feel his penis getting harder and hotter in my hand.

I pumped for a while more when he started squirming again. He had given up once it was clear that he was pinned and not going to get free.

But now it just seemed like random thrashing about. He started blubbering incoherently.

Then it happened. He came. I could feel his penis swell in my hands I could feel the pulse traveling up the shaft. I could feel his penis straining to twitch with the power of his ejaculation.

I watched as the fountain of white liquid erupted from his pee hole. There was a gasp from the crowd following by giggling by the girls.

“Keep pumping,” my coach urged.

I kept going even when his hot semen came back landing on my hand. I kept going and his squirts became weaker and he pumped less stuff until I was jerking and he wasn’t doing anything.

Without being told, I stopped and wiped off the cum on my hand on Frank’s shirt.

The boy who gave me the instructions seemed to be the ringleader, “OK boys,” he said, “Show’s over. We’re going to have to let him up.” He came up with a plan for doing that.

Two of the boys ran off with his pants and threw them into a tree. The rest held Frank for about a minute more.

“OK girls, stand back ... OK boys, ‘go!’” The boys let go simultaneously and took off in different directions. By the time Frank got off the table, they had too much of a head start for him to catch.

Instead of chasing them, Frank just got up and sat on the table, apparently unconcerned about the small band of girls still staring at him from less than 10 feet away. He seemed to be a bit woozy.

Eventually, he did get off and wander off towards the tree, not even bothering to cover up. He took a breath and scaled the tree to retrieve his clothes.

We recalled Frank’s shouted threats of revenge. Yet the other boys had found the strength they needed in numbers. We wondered, would this escalate?

I grinned at Sally, "We got the boys pantsing one another and we didn’t have to do anything but watch." Sally grinned back and we gave each other a high-five.

(End of File)