It had been the mid state regionals, and we lost badly, I having about the best view of our embarrassing rout as I was the goal keeper that day. Many opposing teams would have held back once the game had been decided in the spirit of sportsmanship, but the Panthers and our own team had a rather long history with each other, as did our schools in general. The score was fifteen to three by the time it was all over and the referee mercifully blew his whistle, not all that terrible a score if the game had been college softball, but it wasn't.
The game was college soccer, and this my sophomore year and our school's best chance to date to finally defeat the Panthers, but I couldn't stop them from scoring. A lot went wrong that day in the second half to allow the Panthers in close enough to score all those times, but it was my job to protect our goal as a last resort and I had let my team down...
The visitors showers were quiet that afternoon, I getting my fair share of dirty looks from the girls for my failures as we stripped down and washed the grass stains and dirt from our bruised and battered bodies together in the gang showers. It had been a physical game, and our bodies had the marks to prove it, but it was all for naught with our embarrassing loss to our rivals, the best one could objectively say was that at least hadn't been a shut out.
"Team punishment?" the team captain asked in the showers as she walked from girl to girl confidently in just her skin, I already knowing to whom she was referring even before she had skipped past me. She was a pretty girl when she took the time to dress up, although a hard body through and through with no sympathy for failure, proving if nothing else that looks can be deceiving.
...She had transformed our team from a joke to a serious competitor however, and had long since earned our collective respect. The coaching staff were all faculty of one kind or another, but she was a student same as us, and therefore what happened behind closed doors between us was none of their business. One could always resign her spot on the team instead of submitting to the teams punishments, but none ever had, her policy of "rewarding" a game's LVP (least valuable player) a huge motivational tool...
The consensus had been easily reached by my naked and humiliated teammates in that shower, I accepting of my fate and closing my eyes under that stream of warm water as I grabbed the pipe feeding my shower head firmly, I expecting to receive some form of well deserved corporal punishment delivered to my bare and wet backside by some or all of my teammates. I myself had given as much to some of the others when it had been deserved, and one shouldn't give such things unless she is willing to also receive them.
A flat naked hand when brought down firmly on an equally naked and wet butt made a hell of a noise, but a rolled up towel could instead leave welts if wielded skillfully, and it was this form of punishment that I had steeled my body to receive with the magnitude of my errors.
If one couldn't keep her hands up and out of the way (or stay put) she could be bound that way to receive her punishment, a girl's own sports bra being the improvised restraint of choice, just as her tee shirt or panties were the gag of choice if she couldn't keep from yelping and drawing attention to herself.
I eventually felt our team captain's naked body spooning up against mine, her firm and small breasts that seemed almost as muscular as the rest of her fit body pressed up against my shoulder blades as she whispered into my ear, her arms encircling me like a lover.
"Team punishment?" my captain asked, as the warm water fell on her back instead of my own.
"...Team punishment" I responded with resignation after a moments pause, the only other option being to quit the team.
"Oh, not here sweetheart" she warned after she felt me tensing up for that first blow, "I wish to make a special example out of you so that the entire team can learn something from this." She then gave me a peck on the cheek, (possibly to soften her later blows), before disengaging from her provocative position.
We finished our showers and dressed for the ride home on the team bus, I wondering what my conspiring team mates were scheming at as our team captain visited with groups of them in twos and threes in their seats, they left smiling and stealing covert glances in my direction as I feinted sleep with my eyes open just a crack. The coaches were oblivious to what was happening around them on that bus, or possibly just playing at such thinking I were deserving of the worst my friends could imagine for embarrassing them as well.
...Ordinarily a team punishment was delivered as near to the infraction as possible, or given out during a private field scrimmage session if that was impractical. We had access to an old field with a gate and surrounded by dense woods, our school in a rural community and that particular field as private as such a thing can be. There were no lights for night practise, and sometimes the lime field markings were hardly visible, but we had the machine for that on site in a small utility shed and could mark out our own if necessary. The goals were impossibly sturdy although still portable as the field had the potential to be used for more than one sport, but there were better fields for those professionally maintained and closer to the school, so for all intents and purposes it was "our" field, and we the only ones who ever booked it.
Our last scrimmage on that field had cost some of us several articles of uniform clothing, (one each for every error), and before it was all over some of the girls reduced to playing in little more than their skin and cleats. The ball when body blocked left it's mark on the stripped girls that night, but not mine as a goalie can and must use her hands. That had been a more light hearted form of punishment than some of the others delivered in the showers, and provocative for one like myself that didn't mind the company of another woman at times...
I heard little more about my team punishment before the next scheduled practice on our field, I knowing however that the girls hadn't forgotten our stinging defeat, nor my contribution to that disaster. In preparation for that late afternoon scrimmage I did some rather through body maintenance in the bath, I expecting to be forced to run laps, or some other degrading drills in less than a full uniform while the others watched my humiliation, thankful they weren't the LVP this time.
I was by far the most endowed of the girls on the team, being forced to run laps around the field without a quality sports bra for an entire practice session potentially a less than wonderful experience, I being forced to hold my assets as firmly as possible with my arms to prevent some serious pain. I was the goal keeper specifically because of my endowments, my fuller assets making me a less than effective open field player, but at the same time filling out my team jersey as the others likely only wished they could.
Still, even being forced to run laps the entire night in just my skin as my teammates looked on still beat, (pardon the pun), being beat with a dozen wet towels in the shower while gagged with a pair of my panties and my wrists tied high to the shower pipe. What the men in my life wouldn't give to watch such a scene, or better yet participate in it themselves, I thought for not the first time. Any welts would fade quickly, but still would be felt while sitting on the hard chairs in class the next day. The humiliating sting of such an intimate and personal submission to my peers likely taking just a bit longer though.
When I had arrived I couldn't fail but to notice that the entire team was already there, I thinking that I was late, knowing this was a bad way to show up for a discipline session.
"Glad to see you could make it" the team captain taunted, even though I was quite sure what time she had told me to report ostensibly for practice. I then watched her dispatch two of the forwards to run down the long driveway to the gate, I would guess to lock it so that whatever my punishment was remained private between us girls.
I was then made to stand in the goal box I should have protected with my back to the field, first removing the team practice jersey with my number on it because, it was explained, I was no longer worthy to wear it until I made amends for my transgressions. The entire team had taken up station around me, but our team captain was doing all of the talking, she also in possession of the team's large medical bag making me wonder what was next.
I saw some sympathetic eyes as I handed off my jersey, but not so much so that they spoke in my defense less they get some of what I was about to get in my stead. I vowed to myself to be brave and stoic before the team, but fear crept into my resolve when the team captain blindfolded me with some athletic tape as I dared not resist, this not at all going the way I anticipated in the safety of my bath.
I wouldn't be running anywhere blindfolded, nor see who was about to do what to me, wondering only now if any of my team mates held a grudge for the bare hand and towel spankings I had taken part in with them. I was directed to strip off for the team piece by piece, lending a new twist to "a dressing down", but I had been seen in my skin often enough by the girls for this not to be hugely embarrassing. The blindfold actually helped with that, although I'm not exactly sure why that was.
I was rather proud of my body, and when my task was complete I stood barefoot and straight backed proud despite the chill on my bare flesh. I felt the goose bumps form, and my buds get hard, but still I thrust out my chest and clasped my hands behind my back knowing they were a thing of envy with the other girls. I purposely kept my hands behind me as I steeled myself for that first blow, wondering what implement would be used to ensure I had learned my lesson, and on what part of my exposed body. Out here on this private field I could howl all I wanted and none other that my team mates would be the wiser, but I vowed not to make a sound if I could manage it, displaying my courage just as I had been compelled to display my body.
Two sets of gentle hands startled me and made me flinch, but I had been expecting something else. Still I recovered quickly and allowed the girls to walk me into a specific spot inside the goal area and lay me down on my back, each holding a wrist and shoulder in a guiding way more than a forceful one. My arms were then held out and high as I became aware of something happening in the background, the other girls working at some task cooperatively.
The sound took me a second to figure out, but for some reason the girls had moved the heavy sandbags anchoring the portable goal, they then toppling it over top of me and the other girls that were pinning me down on the muddy field. The two girls holding me down passed my hands through the netting at what was seconds before the top of the goal I was now laying under, arms spread wide. Other girls grabbed them from the outside of the net not all that gently, their aggression causing me to fight back, although the girls easily stopped that by two more of their ranks sitting on my knees and driving my body deeper into the mud.
"Only two little words can stop all this" the team captain whispered in my ear menacingly. I knowing what those were, my "I resign" sending me home and off of the team for good.
I stopped my resistance then, it was futile anyway, I submitting to whatever this crazy team punishment was most passively. The girls weren't really going to harm me, just deliver a slightly painful message and some humiliation, although this particular method was new to me and I didn't know quite what to expect.
The girls holding my hands started wrapping each of them in sports tape, forcing my fist to close on the heavy netting, and then binding the whole mess together and trapping my wrists and hands high overhead. It felt like they eventually used yards of the stuff for each, and I knew I wouldn't be going anywhere until they released me. Still not satisfied with their work one of the girls felt it necessary to flick my erect nipples with their thumb and middle finger, causing me to yelp and flinch and try to tug my arms free as they laughed at my torment, but my arms were helplessly held fast as I apparently passed their sadistic test.
I was held in a fairly helpless position, and the girls could do anything they liked to me, including tormenting my breasts, but they could have just held me down and did that without their elaborate method of restraint. I knew there just had to be more to their plans, and seconds later when the girls holding me down got off of me, they all got together and reset the goal, dragging me into the air along with it.
My bare feet reached for the ground beneath as my body swayed, the girls plans finally coming into focus for me. I heard them replace the sandbags on the goals rear legs, their ballast now more necessary that ever with my body suspended by the goal's netting. I then felt arms grabbing my reaching legs, their support a welcome relief to the tension on my arms. Balls were placed under my bare feet, but far enough apart that I had to tippy toe on them to relieve the stress on my arms, displaying my womanly charms to whomever were standing behind my goal.
I could have manipulated the balls blindly with my talented feet into a more comfortable position if given enough time, but one of the girls noticed my efforts and then used two long lengths of bandages to bind my ankles to what I suspected were the outside posts, ending my efforts to close my legs.
With the girls obvious amusement with their goalie's proper placement in the net, (although facing the wrong way so as not to damage any of my more tender parts), the scrimmage was heard to start. Would I be able to block any more shots on goal poised as I now was as compared to our embarrassing defeat? I imagined that was the general idea, but I also imagined the team captain had a more nuanced message this time, although obviously at my expense.
The first shot on goal felt like a powerful one as it shook my netting, and myself, almost violently. I managed to keep my feet on the balls though, but being blind to the coming shots left me unable to prepare ahead of time.
"SCORE" I yelled out, I not content to passively take my punishment without taunting my team mates for not guarding better. The next shot hit me nearly square in the butt and stung like mad, the crack the ball made when it hit me sounding just awful as it echoed off the trees on the far side of the field. I held my tongue somehow though, but I felt the heat radiate across my backside as I'm sure the red welt did as well. Technically it was a block though, but a costly one for myself.
My bound body blocked some shots while paying the price, one of the girls rather sadistic with both the fury of her kicks and her aim. Others went in and I yelled out in taunting fashion, and twice they bounded off of the netting and smacked the front of my body, once in the stomach, and the other time smacking my breasts painfully. My calves burned from my enforced high heeled stance, but the alternative was far worse.
The practice was nearly over when one of the girls either got lucky, or intentionally targeted the back of my knees rather that my butt or back to dislodge the balls I had been standing on. It came out as my leg was hit hard, I flopping down off of both of them and left to hang from my wrists, my legs spread even wider by the bandages binding my ankles to the posts. The final kick went high and between my splayed legs nearly to my womanhood as it brushed both thighs, either to boast of the shooters abilities, or to remind me of what she could have done if she had really wanted to make this memorable for me.
The goal was once again toppled over with me going along for the ride, I left blindfolded and bound on my back though, and only slightly worse for the wear. What happened next was just between us girls, but sufficient to say that while I was still bound and blindfolded some of the girls apologized to me in a most wonderful way for their earlier lack of blocking, but I don't know to this day who they were as the blindfold remained on the whole time. Good manors demanded I reciprocate, sweaty after game girl not always my favorite dish, but I was hardly in a position to resist...
Topic: Team Punishment by Jackie Rabbit (Read 11640 times)