Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!Copyright 1985-2016 by the Flogmaster. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via electronic medium (i.e. the internet or electronic BBS) is permitted as long as the text is _not_ modified and this copyright is included, but _no_ other form of publication is allowed without written permission. This document _may_ contain explicit material of an ADULT nature. ***READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!*** Anything offensive is your own problem. This story is for **entertainment** purposes only, and it does _not_ necessarily represent the viewpoint of the author or the electronic source where this was obtained. All characters are *fictional* -- any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.
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SSC: Temper, Temper
(*****, Schoolgirl, Intense, soccer star paddling)
A soccer star has a temper tantrum. (Approximately 493 words. Originally published 2000-08.)
The game was huge. The JFK High Beavers had lost to rivals Ronald Reagan High Jackals in the away match, and were determined to win today. Star striker Jamie Clarke was in top form: if she had a good game, they had it made.
But the Jackals immediately showed their strategy when defender Stella Martin brought Jamie down with a crunching tackle as she attempted a simple trap. Stella was shown a yellow card, but it was Jamie who wore the bruises. The pattern continued. Every time Jamie got near the ball, she was taken down, usually illegally, always roughly.
Late in the second half of the scoreless tie Stella tackled Jamie for the umpteenth time, adding a kick to the midsection for good measure. Furious, Jamie retaliated, tripping the big girl. In seconds there were fists flying and when the dust cleared, both players had been ejected.
Coach Davidson, railing at the injustice, guided her star to the lockerroom. She kept saying comforting words but Jamie couldn't hear anything with all the blood rushing through her head.
Suddenly there was a shadow in the doorway. It was Stella Martin, a triumphant gloat across her face!
Ears roaring, Jamie watched it all happen like it was a silent movie. Stella said something nasty, and the normally cool Coach Davidson brought a palm across the girl's cheek.
The slap echoed like a gunshot. Stella and Jamie were astonished. Coach Davidson had gone white.
As if it couldn't get any worse, Principal Wagonner walked through the door. Immediately Stella was upon him, pointing to her scarlet cheek and even summoning up tears.
The man became grim, immediately ordering Jamie to his office.
"Now!" roared the principal, and Jamie ran.
Fifteen minutes restored her composure, but not the feeling of doom. Coach Davidson had said nothing. If Coach took the blame, she'd surely be fired. Jamie felt terrible for the woman, but surely she wouldn't let Jamie be expelled.
Finally Coach and Principal arrived.
"Your coach has convinced me to be lenient," said Principal Wagonner. "I can't condone fighting, but you were provoked. So we've agreed that you won't be expelled or suspended -- nothing will show on your permanent record."
"Thank you!" gasped Jamie.
"Not yet," he said, holding up a huge wooden paddle. "You must be severely punished. Coach Davidson agrees -- in fact, it was her suggestion that you be paddled on the bare rump."
Jamie gasped in horror, bewildered eyes pleading with the Coach for salvation. There was none. The woman took the paddle. "Since it's on the bare, I'll be administering your punishment," she said coldly. "Twenty five swats."
The soccer star's heart sank as Principal Wagonner left.
Then, before Jamie was quite aware it was happening, she felt the big paddle pressed into her hand and watched in disbelief as the teacher, winking broadly, turned and dropped her slacks.
"Make 'em count."