One Thrown Pompom

“HILLARY!” echoed Coach Windsor’s voice through the locker room. Every other girl in the locker room looked first at their coach, then straight to the back, where the sophomore cowered near her locker. “GET YOUR ASS UP HERE, NOW!”

A collective gasp spread among the girls as they realized their normally reserved coach had just swore. “Butterscotch” and “Frankfurter” where her favorite replacement words when things went wrong. Freshman always would giggle every time she said such a word, though the squad leaders made sure the giggles never progressed past the first practice.

Hillary’s squad mates forced the anxious cheerleader, rather forcefully towards the front of the locker room, and their coach. She tried to hold her ground, but the cotton socks offered no traction on the tiled floor.

“What was that out there?!” Coach Windsor yelled.

“It…ah…Sorry!”

“Sorry is not going to cut it! Your stunt cost us the game!”

“But it was an accident!”

“Who flicks their risk when shaking their pompoms?” Windsor asked rhetorically. “NO ONE! You did it INTENTIONALLY!”

“No I swear, it was an accident.”

“Don’t even dare lie to me. We all know it was intentional. They may be our rivals, but no girl of mine will act in such a disgraceful manner. Pack your bags, you are off the squad!”

“No! Please! I can’t get kicked off! Anything but that!” Hillary dropped to her knees and with clasped hands pleaded for mercy.

“Oh, get up girl, and quit making a fool of yourself.” Windsor tried pulling her up by her shoulders, but the sophomore was too heavy to pickup without her help.

“Please, you don’t understand! I’ll do anything to stay on the squad. I can not get kicked off!”

In sixteen years of coaching cheerleaders, Coach Windsor had thought she had seen everything. But interfering with a game and then the scene this girl was making in front of the whole squad was new. She was about to reinforce her previous pronouncement when a glisten on Hillary’s face caught her eye. The girl was crying, as was expected, but her eyes were filled with sorrow, not the expected despair of a girl trying to cry her way out of a consequence. A voice inside the coach’s head kept repeating this was different and something was wrong.

“Get in my office now!” Windsor commanded, pointing her left index finger at the office door. In a flash, Hillary was on her feet and inside the small, glassed-wall room.

Windsor closed the door as she entered and immediately started with the questions, “What is going on? Why can’t you be kicked off the team?”

Hillary looked down at her hands where they fidgeted with the hem of her t-shirt. She contemplated what to tell her coach. How much of the details to include and whether the coach would believe any of it. Well, the truth is always stranger than fiction.

“I…I’ll have to drop out.” Hillary mumbled.

“What? You are the only one on the squad with an academic scholarship and your on the deans list.” Windsor was puzzled by the obvious lie presented. “Thinking about it, you are probably the only reason the squad isn’t on academic probation. Leaving the team is not going to force you to drop out.”

“But, but, I will have to leave school!”

“Stop lying, being off the squad is hard, but not the end of the world,” Windsor said before turning to open her door so she could escort the girl out.

“I’m not lying. My parents will force me to drop out!” Hillary cried.

Windsor paused with her back to the cheerleader and rubbed her left temple. She could feel a headache already forming and it did not look like she would be able to do anything about it. Facing the glass door, and the dozen pair of eyes focused on her office, Windsor gave the girl one last chance to explain. “Why will your parents force you to drop out?”

“Because they didn’t want me to come here in the first place. They wanted me to go to the small liberal arts college near them, not here. They worry about me being so far away from home. And….and… they only reason they let me come here is because I made the cheerleading squad and the college near them doesn’t even have an athletic department. So if I’m not on the squad I’ll have to drop out.”

Coach Windsor turned to face Hillary. She had heard some really interesting excuses over the years, but this one was a whole different kind of strange. “I really don’t..” The look of utter fear in Hillary’s eyes cut the coach off. “Miss Shah, sit,” the coach said as she went for her own chair behind the desk.

Hillary quickly took a seat and leaned forward, anxiously waiting for her coach’s next words. She hoped they would be involve some alternative to being kicked off the team.

Windsor tapped her nails on the desktop a couple of times as she carefully contemplated her words. “So let me get this correct. You parents only allowed you to come to the university because you earned a spot on the cheerleading squad as a freshman. And now, if you leave the team, they will force you to drop out and go to school back home?”

“Yes, if they allow me to still go to college.” Hillary answered, inadvertently adding the last part. Not being allowed to continue her education was her underlying fear. Saying it made the possibility become real to the girl, bring tears to her eyes.

“Not allow you to go college?” Windsor knew the stereotypes, but she didn’t think they really existed anymore. At least not in America. “Your parents are really that controlling?”

“Yea,” Hillary said as she tried to blink away the water in her eyes.

Windsor considered the implications of allowing Hillary to stay on the team. She would definitely receive flack from Coach Roberts let alone the AD. They both would demand Hillary’s removal; if not her own. She would have to substitute a big, flamboyant punishment for the proposed dismissal, otherwise least they view the sanction as inadequate and force Hillary’s removal. But what should the punishment be?

“So, what do you think is an adequate alternative punishment?”

The girl’s face visibly lighted as the coach’s words sunk in. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I don’t know, but I’ll do anything!”

“That is the problem. All the typical ways you girls are punished would be viewed as way too light for your actions.” Windsor paused to think for a moment, slowly directing her stare upwards at the blank ceiling. The plain tiles of the drop ceiling often offered her a blank canvas where her mind could release its creativity. This time her thoughts only had a second before she was distracted by movement in her periphery. The rest of the squad was still starring at her office. “What if we ask the rest of the squad for suggestions?”

Hillary hesitated for a moment, trying to find a good alternative to her coach’s suggestion. When it accepted she had nothing, she answered, “ah, OK.”

Windsor got up and led the cheerleader out in to the locker room where the rest of the girls gathered around. “Hillary has made a very convincing argument to stay on the squad, and I have reluctantly agreed to allow it. HOWEVER, she does deserve to be punished, and since leaving her on the team may result in consequences for the squad as a whole, I thought it only appropriate for you to determine her punishment. Any suggestions?”

“Laps?” One girl offered.

“Community services?” Came another offer.

“Cleaning the locker room and our stuff?” Someone in the back shouted out.

“Spanking?” Lea offered sarcastically.

“OK.” Hillary chirped up before more suggestions could be offered.

“What? I was just kidding.” Lea said.

“Oh….” Hillary responded, embarrassed at her misunderstanding.

“That would be highly inappropriate,” Windsor added.

“Oh, yea, I guess so,” Hillary said sullenly.

“But it’d be great to see!” came a shout from the back.

“And definitely be a real punishment!” another girl added.

“Why can’t we?” someone shouted.

“Yea!” echoed a chorus of girls.

Windsor could feel her headache returning. She knew all the legal implications really just meant the paperwork would be substantial. Inappropriateness didn’t matter as much as consent, and the lack of coercion. Neither issue seemed to be relevant. Moreover, it could serve the purposes of this unfortunate situation, if Coach Roberts and the AD thought it was sufficient. “But how do I prove to Coach Roberts and the Athletic Director that Hillary has been sufficiently punished for her antic?”

The question quieted the locker room for few moments. The obvious answer was to simply show them the spanking, or at least the evidence of the spanking, however the girls were concerned this might be too much for Hillary or their Coach and kill the prospect of seeing their teammate spanked.

Rachelle looked around at her teammates and could tell this duty fell on her shoulders as squad captain. Being a leader is hard, she thought before stepping forward. “We could show them. Afterwards, you could take her to the basketball team’s locker room and show Coach Roberts him Hillary’s spanked butt.”

Hillary’s blush started showing vividly across her olive skin, though she offered no protest.

The coach looked down at Hillary, then back at the rest of the squad. “This is insane,” she thought. Insane, but it might work. With a shake of her head, she asked, “Hillary, you think it would be fair and appropriate?”

“Ah…hmmm…yea.” Hillary mumbled.

“Are you sure?” Windsor asked. “I do not want you to feel you are being pressured into this.”

“No, its OK,” Hillary mumbled.

“OK. Girls get your showers while I get some paperwork drawn up,” Coach Windsor waved off the squad. Returning to her office, she wondered if this would actually work, and more importantly, when this blew up in her face, if her father would still welcome her at his firm. He never really supported her decision to coach cheerleading instead of coming to work at his firm after school. She was, thought, now thankful he had convinced to keep her license current. It wouldn’t be that bad of a fallback career.

Windsor did a quick online search for some boilerplate language to include in the wavier and found an alarming large amount of samples. She had hoped for an example, not a couple dozen that she quickly found. The multitude of contracts did made creating a reasonably sound waiver quick. She printed off a couple of copies as the last of the girls returned from the showers.

Standing at her office’s threshold, she motioned for Hillary to join her in the office. The sophomore obey.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Windsor asked, holding the wavier in her hands.

Hillary took a deep breath, welling up the little little confidence she had remaining, then still answered with a hesitant “Yes ma’am.”

“OK, then I need you to read and sign these, saying you agree to this punishment, are not being coerced into it and fully understand that it involves corporal punishment and display of your bare bottom.”

Hillary didn’t even both to respond, simply taking the offered pen and signing the documents without reading them. “Foolish kid, not reading a contract,” Windsor thought as she pointed out where a signature or initial was required.

Once the paperwork was completed, the coach led the way back into the locker room. The rest of the squad instantly got silent and huddle around the coach. “OK, so this is how it will work. Hillary is going to bend over the table here and you each will spank her five times. Afterwards I will take her to show Coach Roberts. Understand?”

Rachelle raised her hand, “Coach, may one of us hold her hand during it?”

The question surprised Windsor. She thought the girls might be overly harsh on their teammate, not caring and compassionate. “Yes, that would be nice. Any other questions?” No one reacted. “Good. Now does anyone else have a hairbrush?”

“I do,” said Lea as she fetched a heavy plastic number from her locker. It was the shape of a traditional wooden oval hairbrush, except made of high-density polyethylene with plastic quills.

“That’ll work,” Windsor said, taking the implement from Lea. “Rachelle would you organize your squad?”

Rachelle quickly organized the squad in order of seniority, with the newest squad members at the front of the line. She then took Hillary by the hand, as if she was leading a young child across the street, and lead the sophomore to the aforementioned table. Hillary was gently bent over the table, so her forearms rested on the cold surface. Rachelle made sure she was as comfortable as possible before turning to the coach.

“Is this OK?” Rachelle asked Windsor.

“Hmm,” Windsor paused in her response, trying to think if something was missing, primarily from her liability standpoint. Hillary mistook the hesitation as a sign that she was not prepared correctly, and immediately shed the towel wrapped around her torso. “No.” Windsor finished, before she realized Hillary was naked.

“OK. Ivanka, you are first,” Rachelle announced. Windsor handed over the hairbrush as the freshman moved behind Hillary. Rachelle stood to the side of the table, taking Hillary’s hands in her own. “Are you ready?” she asked Hillary.

“Yea,” Hillary said with a deep breath.

Thuack! Hillary grunted as the hairbrush bashed into her bottom. The process was repeated four more times by the freshman, drawing a grunt each time.

“You are going good,” Rachelle comforted Hillary before nodding to the next cheerleader.

Another 5 swats of the hairbrush bashed into Hillary’s bottom, earning her punisher with 5 grunts. The process repeated over and over, as all of the underclassmen took a turn. By the time the first senior was up, Hillary was really feeling the sting generated by the hard plastic, but had yet to really cry out at any single swat.

Kelsey was the first of the three seniors to take a turn. She was the only squad member to be a dual athlete, also being a member of the varsity tennis team. She spun the hairbrush in her hand, as if it was her tennis racket before taking up a solid forehand stance. She had to suppress a broad grin as she admired the red bottom presented before her.

THUACK! “AAAHEEEEEEEEEEE!” Hillary squealed as the hairbrush ricochet off her the lower right cheek, continuing at an upward arch until parting ways with her flesh near the crown of bottom.

THUACK! “AAAHEEEEEEEEEEE!” Hillary squealed again as Kelsey repeated her first stroke on the left side.

Kelsey repeated the hard swats again for each cheeks, increasing Hillary’s level of distress each time.

THUACK! “GRRRRRAAAAAHHH!” Hillary cried out as hairbrush impacted squarely on the intersection of her legs and bottom. She bounced on the table, trying to wiggle free from Rachelle’s grip, but physics and raw strength were on the senior’s side.

Kelsey had been always been taught to follow through with her swings in tennis and made sure she applied the principle to spanking Hillary. The force of her swat was only partially absorbed by sophomore’s cheeks and slim thighs, allowing the brush to just reach the poor girl’s nether lips.

“Your turn Sam,” Kelsey said handing off the hairbrush, giving the girl a sly grin.

Sam looked over the maroon bottom presented to her, looking for missed areas. She quickly found two perfect targets and took up position to Hillary’s right.

Being the only left handed squad member, she intended to provide an unique experience to the sophomore.

THUACK! “Ahhh Ahhhh Ahhhh Ahhh Please not there!” Hillary yelped in ragged breaths as the sting set into the top of her right thigh. Quickly a dark red oval appeared on the olive skin.

Sam disregarded the pleas, instead providing the other thigh a matching mark. Hillary flexed her quads, trying to dissipate the intense sting.

Sam waited for the girl to settle down before providing two quick reinforcements to her previous swats. Hillary yelped through her tears as the sting was redoubled in her thighs.

Sam waited only long enough for her target to stop swaying before attempting to out do Kelsey’s final swat. Hillary’s reaction to the hard upward swat at the juncture of legs and bottom was slightly muted when compared to the first time, however it was strictly due to exhaustion than a lack of intensity.

Rachelle waited until Hillary settled down before letting go of her wrists. She took the hairbrush from Sam and got in position behind her target before pausing for a moment and leaning over the crying girl. “Are you ever going to pull a stunt like that again?” She whispered in Hillary’s ear. The girl vigorously shook her head while trying to say “no,” through her sobs.

“Good!” Rachelle mumbled to herself as she stood up. She lightly rested her left hand on Hillary’s lower back and pulled back her right arm. As if in an instant, Rachelle delivered four quick swats, one to each of the targets focused on by her fellow seniors. She had to push down hard just above Hillary’s tailbone to keep her in place as prepared to deliver the final stroke exactly as Kelsey and Sam had.

THUACK! “Ahhh Ssaaa Ahhhh Saaa AAhh Ahhh!” Hillary cried out between hiccups and sobs. Rachelle removed her hand, allowing the girl to wiggle about on the table as her hands shot back to comfort her bottom.

“OK girls, Hillary has accepted her punishment. Get changed and get going.” Coach Windsor dismissed the cheerleaders before helping Hillary up. The girl quietly cried on the coach’s shoulder for a few minutes as she regained her senses.

Windsor found it odd that Hillary prompted the trip down the hall, albeit after she had returned her uniform, sans panties. Coach Roberts was furious when Windsor and Hillary entered his office though a few quick words by Windsor made him speechless. Hillary bent partially over and showed her bruising bottom with a flick of her skirt. Then the two women were gone as quickly as they had appeared, though leaving a considerably less angry coach in their aftermath.

“I have got to ask, why did you accept being spanked by the girls? That was brutal. I couldn’t have done it.” Windsor asked Hillary as they slowly made their way back to the women’s locker room.

“Ah, mom will do worse,” Hillary answered, opening the door.

Coach Windsor took the door as Hillary entered the froze as the words hit home. “Will do worse?”

One thought on “One Thrown Pompom

  1. Pingback: Spankings of the Week - chross.blogt.ch

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s