For the Team
Story Codes: FF, Reluctant, Spanking



For the Team
By Kevin James Breaux



“Monica is going to have my ass if I mess up today,” Brandy moaned as I drove her to Daok
Campbell Stadium from her apartment.  The head cheerleader had been threatening to kick
her off the squad after blowing two routines in last Saturday’s game against Tech, and was
now giving her the silent treatment.

“I swear,” she said with conviction, “if I screw up today that black-haired bitch’ll kick me the
fuck out!”


Normally I would sit in the back bleachers, casually watching the game while working on my
homework, but this afternoon I took Brandy up on her standing offer and hung out on the
sidelines, avoiding the roving media.  I had been to many of her practices, photographed and
even taken digital video of them for her to study, so I knew the moves, maybe even better
than she did.  Eight years of martial arts will do that for you; make you remember body
movements when watching them over and over.

Marching out of from behind the bleachers, in that high stepping jog that only cheerleaders
can do and look cute at, the squad passed me by on their way to the sidelines.  Brandy
looked extra amazing today.  Maybe it was the pitch of the sun in the sky but her blonde hair
sparkled like gold coins.  Her long legs twinkled as she trotted by with her tight, tanned midriff
on display. On days like this I asked myself how I could be so lucky to be dating the hottest
cheerleader in FSU history.

By half-time the game was tied and the cheerleaders dashed out on to the field to amp up
the morale of the team and spectators.  Brandy was in terrific form. I’d never seen her kick so
high or energetically.  But these were the easy moves.  I watched intently as she shifted into
the tricky ones that had given her trouble last week. Shuffling her feet to the left while making
rope-pulling motions with her arms, she moved into position.  When the squad was ready
their leader, Monica, lifted her head up and started hooting like an Indian with one pompom
up to her mouth and the other at the curve of her back like a rabbit’s tail.  Each girl was
supposed to turn in a clockwise progression following Monica, and do a hopping war dance
back to the center.

Brandy had gone out of order last week, and the week before that she had moved so fast
she collided with busty little Shelley, her best friend.  Shelley hadn’t minded but Monica sure
did, and ripped Brandy a new one after the game.

Crossing my fingers I watched as the first, second and then third girl danced to the center.  
No problems.  Then it was Brandy’s turn.  She hooted on time, turning in a crisp motion with
her pompoms up at her face and down at her back where they belonged.  Perfect.  My eyes
focused on her legs, so tan and taut.  That skin was smoother than velvet, as I had reason to
know.  Those legs would have been my favorite part of her if she hadn’t had the firmest, most
perfect shaped breasts – and plumpest pink nipples -- I had ever seen in my life.

Head down in the circle she peeked to the side, shooting me a sly smile.  She knew where I’d
be sitting.  Her tongue touched her upper lip as she winked and mouthed something to me
that might have been “love ya” or “wish me luck”.  Either way her eyes glimmered with
confidence.

Monica, undeniably gorgeous despite her ‘tude, threw her arm up setting the next move into
motion.  Turning away from the circle each cheerleader ran several feet forward before
executing a double headspring with a front flip step out.

Brandy moved in turn, flawlessly keeping in step with the team.  In one smooth motion she
leaned forward, planted her hands into the grass, and flipped her legs up and over herself
and back to the group where she let the momentum carry her into doing the move a second
time.  Then I saw it: A wobbling motion in her left leg.  I held my breath, knowing she was
slightly off balance.  She might have slipped a little on the grass, or maybe she’d been
leaning a bit too far to one side.  When she launched herself into the front flip I leaned
forward, willing her to do it right.

It happened so quickly: one moment she was sailing gracefully through the air, the next she
was down on the group, on her butt with her hands wrapped around her right ankle.  I ran out
onto the field, reaching her before the team’s sports doctor could.  To my surprise Brandy
wasn’t crying in pain: instead she’d cut loose with a stream of profanity.  Had she been any
louder the fans with seats closest to the field would have heard her using language sure to
have her bounced off the cheerleading squad once and for all.

Monica stepped up behind Brandy, combing her jet black hair out of her eyes and then
flipping her head to the side to remove any stray strands.  She stood with her arms crossed
and her legs spread in a wide stance, no doubt so both of us could see up her skirt.  It felt it
was an odd act of dominance, just another way for her to assert herself as the alpha female.  
I knew she wanted me to look so I tried not to, but -- who am I kidding -- I had to steal a peek.  
She had great legs and a delicious gap between the tops of her slim thighs.

“You better hope that’s broken, Zalensky.  If not, your ass is mine tonight.”

She sauntered away playing the queen bitch role like a Daytime Emmy award winning soap
opera actress.

“What did I tell you?” Brandy looked up into my eyes as the team’s doctor called for a
stretcher to remove her from the field.

#

After every game there was a party at Monica’s house, a large Victorian mansion at the city
limits.  It was mandatory that all cheerleaders attend, and injury or no injury, Brandy said,
Monica would expect her to be there.  From what I could tell from my side of the conversation
the two girls had via cell phone on the way home from the hospital, my girlfriend was in for a
rough night.

Brandy’s ankle was taped up.  It wasn’t broken or even a particularly bad sprain, but she’d
have to ice it and be very careful for the next couple of weeks.  “Monica’s pissed at me,” she
said despondently, closing her cell phone.  “I’ve got a major lecture in store.”  I caressed her
shoulders sympathetically, but ultimately, if she had to face Monica’s music, there was no
help for it.

Because of Brandy’s detour to the hospital we arrived late to the party.  The moment we
crossed the threshold through the large double doors Shellie spotted us and ran over to see
how her friend was.

“Hey, babe, how’s the ankle?” Shellie smiled and patted me on the chest while she talked to
Brandy.

“It’s just a bad twist.  My back hurts more than anything else.”

“Yeah that’s not the only thing that’s gonna hurt soon, I hear,” Shellie rolled her eyes.

“I know, but I don’t have any choice if I want to stay on the squad.”

“What are you two talking about?” I asked, not sure what was going on.

Brandy looked sidewise at me. “Monica warned me that if I fucked up again I would be off the
team,” she muttered, “but when I talked to her this afternoon she said there was one thing I
could do to stay.”

As we walked into the main entertainment room of Monica’s family’s home a group of three
linebackers started chanting Brandy’s name, which set off just about everyone else in the
room, player and cheerleader alike.  Brandy turned red with embarrassment, hiding her face
in my neck for a moment.

“Remember how I said Monica was going to have my ass?  Well, the thing is, she meant that
literally.  She wants to punish me in front of the team and squad!  She wants to spank me for
being bad and messing up the routine today.”

My jaw dropped. “That’s crazy!” I said, looking around the room full of people cheering her
name.

“Apparently she told everyone her plans.”

“Yeah, well, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Up until we got here, I was still unsure if I was going to go through with this.  I was seriously
considering quitting.”

“And now?” I said as I watched Monica descend the spiral stair case from the upstairs down
into the foyer.

“I – I just don’t know.  But I’m ready for anything.”

Monica cut a swath through the crowd of partiers directly toward Brandy and me.  I had seen
Monica in many moods, but not this one.  It was difficult to identify; my best was that she was
gleeful.  Stopping sharp on her high heels so close to Brandy she accidentally brushed the
edge of her breast when she raised her hand to point, Monica smiled and spoke loud and
clear.

“You ready for your spanking, bitch?”

“Jesus, Monica,” I found myself spitting out. “She slipped on the grass and hurt her ankle
today, it was an accident.”

“Step off, computer-boy!” Monica snapped without breaking eye contact with Brandy, who
held her stare.

“It’s ok,” said Brandy, glancing sidelong at me. Looking back at Monica she said, “I am here,
let’s do this.”

“Let’s do this?” Monica repeated in a slower draw thinking she was matching Brandy’s
accent. “Would you listen to this bitch?  Oh, we are going to do this, honey, and you’re
gonna be begging and crying before I am done.”

“You won’t even get an ‘ouch’ out of me,” Brandy said, surprising me with the contempt in her
voice. On her face was a look of pure, insolent confidence. “Go ahead, you dumb-ass bimbo.
Give it your best shot.”

This was a Brandy I had never seen in our five months of dating.  She told Monica no matter
how hard she hit her, the smug little smile she was looking at would never fade.  At that
moment I knew Brandy was in control.  She did not need me to protect her; all I had to do now
was step back, enjoy the show, and root for my girl.

Brandy positioned herself next to the pool table in the game room.  Leaning over the table
raised her athletically firmed ass.  She reached back and lifted her short squad skirt,
revealing her lack of panties to not only me but everyone else who was around to see.  
Frozen with the sight of the creamy white skin against the tan lines framing her bare buttocks,
I could not speak.  I heard a sharp intake of breath from most of the onlookers.

“Ready when you are, Monica,” Brandy purred.  Some male in the audience groaned, but it
was drowned out by the cheer erupting in the room.  It was so loud that I am sure the
neighbors on the other side of the acre of land the mansion sat on could hear.  Forcing my
gaze from Brandy’s sweet little ass to Monica I found that the squad leader’s look of anger at
Brandy’s defiance had changed back to that odd look she had when she was walking down
the stairs.  I realized now that it wasn’t glee; it was something else.

Monica moved suddenly, winding her whole body up to strike Brandy’s rear end.  SLAP!  The
sound echoed for a second before every football player on the team hollered with as much
excitement as if one of them scored a touchdown.  True to her words, Brandy did not say
ouch.  She simply wriggled that amazing butt and winked at me.  I held my breath.

A second strike rang out, followed by cheers and laughter, then a third and fourth.  I wanted
to step in front of Brandy to rescue her from this ridiculous punishment, but I could see in her
eyes she did not want me to.  Looking to the tight curve of her ass where it met the flesh of
thigh I saw a red hand print glowing against the pale flesh.

I warned you, bitch,” snarled Monica.  “Embarrass the squad again and I would make you live
to regret it.”

Monica cocked her arm back like the hammer of a gun and swung it down, smacking her
palm against Brandy’s reddening ass with a sound like a gunshot.  At the impact I noticed
Brandy lift up her bandaged ankle for a second, then place her foot back down gently.  
Curious, I watched as she lifted her injured foot again and again over the next four strikes.  
When I returned my eyes to her ass it was bright red and speckling with purple dots.  I had
not noticed before, but the crowd had stopped its cheering and now held dead quiet.

“Come on, you little bitch, cry!”

Monica was clearly unhinged.  She wanted to break her squad mate, and Brandy was not
going to give her the satisfaction.  Brandy’s eyes winced during the next three strikes, but her
smile did not drop.  Her resolve was amazing.  The spanking had lasted over five long
minutes, and many of the partiers had moved on into other rooms no longer interested by
this cruel, punitive spectacle.  The few that remained, like me, wanted to see who was going
to triumph in this test of fortitude.

Suddenly Shellie stepped forward and caught Monica’s hand as it began one more descent.  
“She’s had enough Monica, her ass looks like raw meat!” Shellie cried.

Winded, and with uncharacteristic sweat rolling down her pretty face, Monica brought her
hand slowly down to cradle Brandy’s cruelly spanked ass.  Finally the look on Monica’s face
made sense to me.  I had seen that look on my own face before, but only in the mirror when I
was fucking Brandy from behind.  Monica was in lust: she wanted Brandy and this was the
only way she could have her.

“Have you learned your lesson, Brandy,” Monica asked, as she leaned over her teammate.

Brandy’s eyes locked on mine.  I nodded yes, hoping to prompt Brandy’s answer.

Still smiling, Brandy said, “Yes, Monica, I have.”

“After you’re all healed up I want to see you at every practice, working twice as hard as the
other girls.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Monica.”

“Good girl.”

Kneeling down behind Brandy, Monica appeared to be taking a closer look at her handiwork,
but then did something no one in the room would have expected.  Taking my girlfriend’s
cheeks in her hands Monica ran her tongue across the most bruised part of Brandy’s rear,
stopping just short of her crack.

Brandy jumped up, dropping her skirt down in an attempt to cover up as quickly as possible.  
“What the fuck, Monica?”

At that moment I understood that Brandy hadn’t caught the drift of Monica’s plan.  In a way I
was glad she hadn’t.

Planting her hands down on the ledge of the pool table Monica pinned Brandy back. Tossing
her hair to the opposite side, away from Brandy, Monica leaned in until their faces were
nearly touching cheek to cheek.  The raven haired queen bee proceeded to whisper
something to my girlfriend that, had I been any further away, I would have missed.

“I will forget about the mess you caused today, and keep you on the team no matter what
mistakes you make in the future.  All you have to do is go upstairs with me right now and let
me eat that sweet pussy of yours.”

“No fucking way, Monica!” Brandy yelled, pushing away from the leader.  “You’re sick!”

Hobbling to me, she whispered “Let’s get the fuck out of here!” and pulled me towards the
door with all her might.  As much as it might have aroused me, Monica’s proposal obviously
outraged Brandy.  Then she said something I never imagined I would ever hear.

“I quit the squad, Monica.  You’re a twisted bitch and I don’t want anything to do with you!”

“Oh Brandy,” Monica said in mock pity.  “Come on, sweetie, take one for the team.  Your
friend Shellie did.”

Brandy turned an amazed glance at Shellie, who dropped her gaze.

Then Brandy looked back at Monica.  Without saying a word, she shot the team leader a final
message with her eyes.  I did not see it myself, but I knew that I’d never be attending any
more college football games.


Copyright© 2009 Kevin Breaux


Kevin Breaux is a multi-genre writer who has had three stort stories published this year.   He
is seeking representation for an Urban Fantasy novel and a High Fantasy series.   He is a
member of the Horror Writer’s Association  and maintains an author/artist website at
www.kevinbreaux.com