A Team Player (closed for KatiePlaything)

He ignored her. Walking behind, he started his examination...only this time, it wasn't quite so clinical. His hands moved smoothly and gently, not probing and prodding as before.

He began at her shoulders. as last time, but now he more stroked[.I] than kneaded; his hands ran smoothly but gently and slowly across her shoulders, down her arms. He spent a few minutes examining her hands, his fingers gliding over her palms. Then he moved to her flanks, under her bra, sliding languorously over the smooth skin of her ribs, across her hip bones, lingering for a moment in the hollows above her waist, then moving smoothly and unhurriedly around the front, caressing her belly, before moving down again back over her hips and down the outside of her thighs.

This was not a man assessing a horse; this was a man appreciating the wonder of a woman's body. Again he lingered a little at the backs of her knees, finally proceeding gently and slowly up the inside of her legs and thighs, but ending short of her pudenda.

He moved his hands then to her shoulders again, brushing aside her ponytail and running his fingers lightly up to the nape of her neck and down her upper spine.

"You truly are exquisite," he breathed as his fingers ended at the base of her spine just above her panties.

Then he stepped away. As she bent to pick up her clothes, however, he spoke.

"We're not finished, yet," he said. Moving around to stand in front of her, he fixed her with his gaze. "You didn't follow my instructions," he said. "I specifically told you to wear that orange top and skirt to this interview, yet you didn't. Disobedience requires punishment."

Reaching suddenly--he was quick, for a big man--he took the base of her ponytail in one meaty fist and turned towards the desk.

She struggled, of course, but what could she do? He had her head in an unbreakable vice-grip by her hair. He pulled her towards the desk, stumbling, and pushed her head down on the surface so that she was bent over at the waist.

"When you were young," he said, "did your parents ever spank you?"

Katie remained silent as Coach Chandler explored her young body, stroking and lovingly caressing her bare skin, but not daring to violate her most personal of regions. She kept her eyes closed, half hoping it would end half wishing the hands sending tingles down her spine belonged to another man.

Eventually he ended his examination and Katie bent to gather her clothes.

"We're not finished, yet. I specifically told you to wear that orange top and skirt to this interview, yet you didn't. Disobedience requires punishment."

"I didn't think that~~" was all she managed to get out before the large man snatched her by the hair and shoved her down against the desk. She winced and felt her cheeks flush with anger and shame. She was pinned -- exposed and vulnerable before him.

"When you were young did your parents ever spank you?"

"Stop it," she said and tried to stand, but his grip was too strong.

He drew his hand--his big hand--back and gave her a resounding whack! on her left cheek. "When a coach on the field," he said, giving her another whack! on the right cheek, "gives you an instruction," whack! again on the left, "you follow it." whack! again on the right. "You don't question," whack!, "you just do." whack! "That's called respect," whack!, "and I expect" whack! "the same." whack!

"When I give you a directive," whack!, "I expect it to be followed." whack!.
He stopped for a moment and ran his hand smoothly and lightly over her firm bottom. It was warm, very warm; they hadn't been hard slaps, but they had been firm. He decided that it was enough.

Releasing her hair, he walked casually around his desk to his chair, just as if the spanking of a young woman over his desk was a perfectly normal occurrence.

"You may get dressed, now," he said noncommittally as he picked up some papers and began reading. "And remember: When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it."

"When I give you a directive," whack!, "I expect it to be followed."

"Yes, sir!" Katie choked out on reflex after Coach Chandler reddened both her ass cheeks to match her other set. His strikes were not as brutal as she suspected the man was capable of, but firm and strong enough to force her onto the balls of her feet in seek of relief from his punishment.

Fortunately, his anger faded after a minute of his discipline and he granted permission for her to gather her clothes and leave.

"You may get dressed, now. And remember: When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it."

"Yes, sir," Katie repeated as she quickly pulled her jeans back on and fled the coach's office, her mind trying to focus on her anger and not the curious dampness she felt in her panties.

~~Four days later~~~

Dirk was waiting at the exit to the women's locker room as they players exited the field for practice. As Katie emerged, he beckoned her over.

He could see the apprehension behind her eyes. Good. She should be nervous around him; it helped with her 'seasoning".

"I was expecting some kind of report before now," he began without preamble, "about whichever girls seem to be likely to have trouble handling their new-found freedom."

Katie shrugged her shoulders. "Sorry, coach... I haven't heard anything worth reporting," she said before a pause to gather her thoughts. He was obviously expecting something more than that.

"Really... they're a good group. I heard something about a boyfriend getting a little possessive, and a couple are planning to go to a frat party after the game this weekend, but that's nothing to really be concerned about. Better to blow off a little steam and enjoy a drink after the game than before, right?"

"Really?" Dutch said after a long pause. "Classes start next week. So I expect some will reveal their...weakness...after that." Like all college sports, the teams reported a few weeks early for daily practices before the rest of the student body; it was a chance for coaches to drill their charges without any distractions.

The game on Saturday was a pre-season warm-up; the actual schedule wouldn't begin until the following weekend.

"I expect a frat party now will be a blow-out," he said, "a 'last fling' before the serious work of classes and reading and papers begins. As such, it's likely to get wild. The kind of girls who would attend such an event are exactly the girls I want you to keep an eye out for.

"Speaking of which, I still haven't seen your schedule. Bring it to me on Saturday, and we can set up a convenient time for both of us for continuing our appointments.

"And in future, I expect more detailed information: the names of the girls who are going to parties, and which fraternity is hosting. Attention to detail makes the difference between a championship season and a so-so season. Something that as captain of your high-school team I would have expected you to know.

"I'm disappointed in you, Katie," he shook his head. "I think you didn't listen when I gave you this assignment, either that or you didn't take it seriously. Either way, I think another...chastisement is in order."

He let her stew for a few seconds. The look in her eyes said loud and clear: What? He's going to spank me again? Here?! In front of everybody??

But Dutch had something else in mind entirely. The women's Lacrosse uniform here at Empire was a short-sleeved, long-waisted jersey with a mid-thigh length skirt.

"Take off your panties," he said calmly.

Katie narrowed her eyes at Dirk. Chastising her for not being as specific with her spying as he had hoped was one thing, and she couldn't really care less about him being 'disappointed' in her... save for the danger that presented for her scholarship... but ordering her to remove her panties out here in public was another matter entirely.

"You've got to be..." she started but didn't need to finish. He wasn't.

She took a step towards the edge of the building where she might be able to hide behind a row of tall bushes but coach interceded and blocked her way. "What? Here??"

Katie glanced both ways, the coast was clear for the moment so she had to act fast. She reached up under the hem of her short skirt, shoved her panties to the ground and quickly straightened her clothes back down so that her bare bum and sex are hidden once more.

"There. Happy?" she spat and tucked her wadded panties into her backpack.

"No," he said. "Give them to me." and held out his hand. Furious, she slapped them into his palm.

"This will serve two purposes," he said calmly. "First, when the other girls see you in the locker room and notice you didn't wear panties today, the partygirl-types may think you're like them and be more forthcoming with their plans, maybe even include you. If anyone asks why, you will tell them that some days you just don't feel like wearing any.

"And second," and here he held her eyes, "every little breeze that tickles your cootchie will be a reminder that not only will my instructions be followed, but they will be be followed in a timely fashion, with diligence and thoroughness.

"Find out where this frat party is going to happen, and when, and who's planning on going. And get yourself invited, as well. If you had any other plans for that night, cancel them. I'll expect a complete report at our regular appointment on Saturday morning, and your class schedule. Oh," and he held up the panties on the end of one finger, "and you can have these back then, but for the rest of today you're going commando." He smiled.

"Now go practice."

It was the worst practice of Katie's short career -- mostly spent desperately trying to keep her skirt down while running and chasing across the field. She thought she had been mostly successful, but caught a few curious grins from other players that made it abundantly clear that they knew.

This make the few days before her next visit to Coach Chandler all the more maddening as she awaited the fallout. Surprisingly, getting an invitation to the weekend's big party hadn't seemed difficult at all.

Katie arrived at Coach Chandler's office on time, dressed in a navy skirt and frilled white top that gave off a bit of a "hippy" vibe, but she found it loose and comfortable for summer. Her chestnut hair was accented with a ribbon in school Kelly green.

She knocked at his door and entered when beckoned.

"The party's at Delta Tau Chi," she cut right to the chase. "Stacy Sinclair, Christine Monroe and Dawn Kim are attending. I think Melanie Brightwell might be too... I don't know for certain but she and Dawn are best friends so it's likely. I got an invite too." She then extended a piece of paper to him. "My schedule".

Dutch accepted the schedule without comment, waving Katie to a seat. He glanced up once, noticing that she sat demurely, with legs together, but that the skirt was short enough to expose a nice expanse of thigh.

He looked over the schedule silently for a few minutes. "You seem to have an open block of time on Thursday mornings; a class at 8:00, then nothing until noon. Thursdays are usually a light day for me, so that's when we'll meet, after your first class, at 9:15. Sharp" he added, looking at her meaningfully from under his eyebrows. "You'll have plenty of time to get from the 4201 building to this office. I'll accept no excuse if you're late. I'm a busy man, and I don't have time to waste waiting around for you. You understand, I'm sure."

He leaned back in his chair and fixed her with a measuring but not unfriendly gaze. "That's a very nice outfit, by the way," he said amiably. "Much nicer than the rags you've worn in her before. And I like the bow; it gives you a cute, little-girl look. Wear it from now on when you come here.

Delta Tau Chi, he thought--excellent. The local "animal house", the fraternity's initials were colloquially said to stand for "Dick The Chick" on campus. There would be plenty of drinking and dancing and carousing going on, and probably a lot of pairing-off to go upstairs to the bedrooms if the guys could manage to 'score'--and they would try. They would try hard.

It suited his plans perfectly.

She started to stand, but froze halfway up when he cocked his head and held up one finger. "Did I tell you to stand?" he asked levelly. She stayed there half-risen for a few moments, then slowly subsided again into her seat.

"In this office there are three rules: What I want, when I want, how I want. End of list. Understood?"

"Thursdays are usually a light day for me, so that's when we'll meet, after your first class, at 9:15. Sharp"

"Yes, sir," Katie nodded her head politely -- a bit of her spit and fire lacking from their previous meetings.


"Much nicer than the rags you've worn in her before. And I like the bow; it gives you a cute, little-girl look. Wear it from now on when you come here.

Her hand reached and touched the bow. She had forgotten she had worn it today. "Yes, sir. I can do that."


"In this office there are three rules: What I want, when I want, how I want. End of list. Understood?"

"Yes, sir. I believe you have made that clear," she replied and sat back into the chair once more. There was a pause of silence and she didn't know what else to share... she had delivered her report and schedule as requested. From her point-of-view the meeting should be over.

"Was there something else you need?"

Dutch let the silence stretch for a minute, then two...

"Stand up," he said. Katie stood.

"I like that skirt, but it needs...something..." he mused, eyes half-lidded. "Roll the waistband a little." Katie dutifully rolled the waistband, raising the skirt by about an inch. "Higher," he said, and she rolled it another inch. "Higher yet," he instructed, and she again rolled it. From just above the knee the hem was now above mid-thigh. Any higher, and her panties would probably show when she was standing and almost certainly when she sat.

"There, that's better," Dutch said, looking pleased with himself. "You have great legs; you should show them off. From now on, at our appointments I want you to wear a skirt that length. No longer. You can change after you leave here, I don't care, but you will be wearing it when you enter."

"Now the top," he continued. "Lift the bottom hem up to your bra; show me your midriff."

As Katie hooked her fingers under the bottom edge of the top and pulled it up, Dutch noticed the bruise on the right side of her ribcage. "What's this?" he asked, suddenly all concern, getting up from his chair and coming around the desk. As he stood before Katie and gently traced the outline of the brown mark, he raised his eyes to hers. "A hard poke-check, was it?"

"You have great legs; you should show them off. From now on, at our appointments I want you to wear a skirt that length. No longer. You can change after you leave here, I don't care, but you will be wearing it when you enter."

"Yes, sir."


"A hard poke-check, was it?"

"Yes, sir. Alexa....." she paused in thought. "I don't know her last name. Quiet girl, short black hair. Just a little 'friendly fire', sir. No big deal... it'll heal up by the time games matter."

Dutch chuckled. "Oh, yes; I've noticed her. Feisty little spitfire on the field, quiet as a mouse off, and very competitive. She'll make a good forward, don't you think?"

Katie said nothing in response; there didn't seem to be anything to say, really.

"Here, let me help with that," Dutch said, voice still full of concern. He moved around behind her, and placed both hands on her sides towards the front, where the bruise was.

"A bruise is painful," he began, moving his hands gently in small circles around the injured area, touch feather-light. "This isn't one of those deep-purple bruises, which I remember from my playing days," he continued conversationally. "It's just a 'light-brown' bruise; still, it does ache. I've found that a gentle, soothing massage can ease the ache. Just relax," he instructed. His hands continued moving, his fingers lightly pressing along her ribs, gliding smoothly, never standing still, always sliding across her silky skin...

Katie braced herself at first, certain Dutch was going to strike her bruise or some other masochistic thing. But instead he touched her gently... tracing light, soothing circles around the tender area.

She had to admit to herself at least that his touch felt good. Her eyes closed, but she stood straight and still with the hem of her shirt lifted. "That... that feels nice," she confessed. "Thank you."

Dutch said nothing, letting the magic touch of soft hands and light fingertips answer for him. Minute after minute passed, with his fingers forever gliding gently, smoothly, tenderly. caressingly, softly...

"You know," he said behind her, much closer than she had thought he was, "I've watched you on the field." His voice was low, soothing, quiet. "You're a natural leader," he continued, his breath stirring her hair. "You take charge; you give advice to the other girls, and they listen." His hand began to roam farther afield, across her belly, along her waist, up and down her ribcage. "That's a rare quality; no wonder you were captain of your team. And good grades. And all the extracurricular activities you were involved with, on the board or on the executive committee or whatever..."

His hands were now roaming freely across her midriff, his thumbs occasionally running up and down her spine and, when they moved to the front, along the underside of her bra.

"But at night," he continued, closer behind her, "a woman like you wishes someone else would take charge, someone else would take the responsibility." His voice was a mere whisper, tickling the back of her neck. "Well, this is a time and place," he murmured, "where you can let all that go. You can just...be. Just ...feel," and the tips of his fingers dipped slightly under the waistband of her skirt. Not deeply, not for long, just a touch before he resumed his gentle, slow stroking...

Katie felt herself shutter at Dutch's sensual, teasing touch. His hand moved from her bruise, caressing her taunt belly and fanks... inching ever closer to the hem of her raised shirt and bra.

"But at night... a woman likes you wishes someone else would take charge..."

"Yes..." she confessed in a hushed whisper and felt her mouth water. His thumb traced her spine; she trembled at the sensation of goosebumps rising across her neck were his hot breath tickled her.

"where you can let all that go. You can just...be. Just ...feel,"

"Yes," she mumbled again when his fingers dipped below the waist of her skirt. Her body tensed as she prepared for him to tear her clothes from her... wanted him to undress her and push her to her knees.

"I do want that... sir," she confessed and felt the front of her panties go damp with anticipation. "I want... need someone to take charge... tell me what to do..."

"Your arms must be getting tired," he said softly. "Let's dispense with this, shall we?" And he deftly ran his hands up her sides, under the top, under her arms, and lifted it up over her head and off. "There, now, isn't that better?'

His hands moved to the clasp of her bra, opening it with a quick movement, then slid along skin of her bare breasts, cupping their fullness and moving forward until his fingers and thumbs closed around her hard nipples. She gasped and bit her lip as he massaged her full, soft orbs, always ending with a gentle roll of the nipple between thumb and forefinger.

"I know you, Katie," he whispered in her ear and planted a butterfly kiss on the side of her neck. "I know you've fooled around with boys, maybe given a handjob or two, maybe even sucked one or more. And I know you've let them touch you...here," and he gently squeezed one nipple between his fingers, "and here," he continued, planting another kiss a little higher on her neck and sliding one hand down, down along the smooth muscles of her stomach, over her navel, under the waistband of skirt and panties, lower, lower, to where his fingers slid and slithered through the landing strip of her pubic hair, slippery now with the moistness leaking from her cleft.

"And you wanted more, but you always resisted," another kiss, one hand gently kneading the soft flesh of her breast while the other moved back and forth across her lower belly, moving tantalizingly close to the her clit but never quite touching it. "You protested, because you're a good girl, aren't you? And good girls don't let boys do that. And they listened to your protests, and they stopped short of what they wanted."

The hand on her breast left it and moved her hair away from the back of her neck, then reclaimed its soft but firm prize. He started tracing little circles with the tip of his tongue up and down the back of her neck from base to where it met her hairline.

Pulling away, he murmured, "But you always wanted one of them to ignore your protests, didn't you? You wanted him to ignore your objections and simply take what he wanted, because then you could say to yourself, 'There was nothing I could do,' and you could relax and enjoy the wonderful feelings that washed through your body..."

His lower fingertips now brushed lightly over the tip of her engorged nub, drawing another gasp and a little moan. "But you've never experienced what a grown man can do, things a boy hasn't learned, yet. The way he can make you feel, the delicious things he can do to set your body on fire..."

And he began to make little circles around her clit, teasing it, thrumming it lightly with his fingertips. "Tell me, Katie...tell me what you want me to do to you."

Katie offered no resistance when Dutch sheds her shirt, then frees her breasts from the confines of her bra. She shuddered with arousal, her nipples puckering with need. Her breathes came in hot, shallow pants accompanied by the occasional "yes" to his various queries. He stoked her fires with expert grace, slowly... achingly teasing her flesh as he marched a path towards her moist sex.

Her thighs tensed with anticipation and need when he finally reaching the target of his teasing and finds her clit -- hard and needy. "Tell me, Katie...tell me what you want me to do to you." She knew he already knew the answer, but was going to make her say it anyway.

"Fuck me..." she answered with flushed cheeks.

Katie couldn't take it anymore and grabbed Dutch's belt, giving it a hard tug open, then freed the button of his jeans. She got down on her knees before him, sitting on crossed ankles and tugged his zipper down hard enough for his slightly aroused cock to tent out from his boxers. She pulled his pants and shorts down to the floor and grinned at the sight of his flesh falling free. "I want you to fuck me," she repeated and licked the tip of his manhood, tracing the line around his purple crown and fed his flesh into her mouth.

Oh, damn...she is good! He thought.

He wondered idly where she'd learned this skill; her background and family situation didn't give any clue. But at the moment he didn't really care... she glided smoothly from base to tip, sucking and moving her tongue back and forth across the frenulum, following with her hand...running her tongue and lips over and around the ridge, then engulfing him again...

He placed his hands on either side of her head, closed his eyes, and simply reveled in the sensations. He could feel his balls puckering, his orgasm mounting...he wanted to grab a double handful of those beautiful auburn tresses and savage her throat until he spewed...

But he couldn't. It wasn't part of his plan. Regretfully, he pushed her head away after a few minutes. "Oh, that was wonderful, little girl, but there'll be no fucking today. You haven't earned that, yet."

Pulling her to her feet by his hands under her shoulders, he turned her towards the desk. "But I will give you something, something I think you'll like..."

He guided her to the desk and with one hand swept the papers and other stuff unceremoniously to the floor. Pushing her gently, he positioned her face down and bent over the edge, her ass and her sopping wet panties gloriously thrust out towards him. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of the boy-shorts she was wearing and skinned them down her thighs, exposing her moist sex and smooth, rounded cheeks.

He began gently massaging her cleft from behind, using two fingers: running them along her upper thighs, along the creases where her thigh met her labia, along her perineum, along the glistening orchid petals of her inner lips, but for now stopping just short of her clitoris.

Again and again he stroked, and teased, and came close only to retreat again...

~But, what.. I thought...~

Katie couldn't process the thoughts much less say them before Dutch withdraws his cock from her mouth and pushes her down over the desk. She straightened her legs, back arched and ass pointed up towards the Athletic Director, "presenting" her sex to him.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of the boy-shorts she was wearing and skinned them down her thighs, exposing her moist sex and smooth, rounded cheeks.

He began gently massaging her cleft from behind, using two fingers: running them along her upper thighs, along the creases where her thigh met her labia, along her perineum, along the glistening orchid petals of her inner lips, but for now stopping just short of her clitoris.

Again and again he stroked, and teased, and came close only to retreat again...

Katie gasped through flushed cheeks and closed her eyes. Every time his fingers teased closer to her clitty she trembled with need and grew increasingly frustrated as he drew away from her sex.

"Please..." she begged and gripped the edges of the desk tight in both hands lest she be tempted to reach down and rub her hard little bud herself. "Please, sir..."

((OOC: Sorry for the delay! I was out of town for Labor Day Weekend and forgot to send you a note. But I'm back! )

Dutch was having a difficult time; his pants were still around his ankles, and his cock waving in the breeze...this teasing had him oozing precum like a slow oil leak. How simple and easy it would be to just step up behind her and thrust his way into that tight, wet tunnel, to bury himself to the hilt until his balls were chock-a-block against her ass cheeks...

But he hadn't gotten where he was without self-discipline, and much as his testicles ached and clamored to find release deep inside that glorious little twat before him, he held himself in check.

"Well, since you ask so nicely..." he murmured, and sinking to his knees he turned his hand palm down and slid two fingers deep, deep inside her. Oh, she was tight, as he knew she would be; he had to exert some effort to penetrate her inner folds. He encountered no hymen, but that didn't signify anything--an athletic girl could lose her cherry in so many ways. He was still 90% certain that she was a virgin, despite the unexpected oral skills she had demonstrated just a minute ago.

When he felt the little wrinkled nub that was her G-spot, he began rubbing it with his fingertips in a back and forth motion like he was rubbing out a spot, every now and then raking his fingers back in a come-hither flex. It was swollen and hard, like another finger or thumb pushing back against him. He could feel her quiver at the contact.

At the same time he slid the thumb of that hand forward, finally contacting the hard pink swelling of her clit, rubbing gently in small circles around it. The knuckles of her hands gripping the edge of the desk whitened and a small moan escaped her.

Where he was situated his face was directly in front of those wonderful smooth cheeks, and he began kissing and licking them, daring to thrust his tongue into the crease between her sex and thigh to taste the delicious nectar leaking from her cleft. The scent of her musk was heady, almost overpowering in its sweetness, and his cock jerked in protest at being left out of the party. But it could wait...it could wait...

(OOC: I was beginning to think I'd been abandoned! Happy to see that was not the case.)

"Oh god!" Katie gasped with her jaw clenched so tight the words came out as little more than a ragged whisper. It was an exclamation born from frustration... she wanted her feel her throat tremble from the moan Dutch's touch deserved, but she had to choke back her lust for fear of alerting the hall what they were up to. Class was out, thankfully, but there could still be other professors or janitors roaming the halls.

"Don't ... stop," she plead quietly and raked her thick chestnut curls over one shoulder so she could look back at the coach and show him the lust and need in her eyes before his face dipped under and beneath her to lap at her damp petals. "Just like... ooohhhh.... like that...."

Katie's knees widened, back arched and ass raised to accommodate his exploration of her body. She released the edge of the desk to cup one of her breasts and pushed her sex back against Dutch.

"Fuck your fingers.... a little ha~~harder..." she begged through panting gasps. "Rub my clit... faster... I... ~~" she bit back her voice once more for fear of screaming and enjoyed the thrill of her approaching climax.

He acquiesced in her pleading, speeding up the finger-raking and thumb-twirling, watching rapt as she edged nearer and nearer to her peak. Oh, how he wanted to watch her sweet body buck and quiver in orgasm... He moved his other hand down to just gently touch his own twitching, jerking cock...he was close himself. But he wouldn't, not yet...

"Do you want to cum, Katie?" he said low, almost whispering. "Do you want to cum? I can make you cum, but you have to ask nicely, Katie. Ask me, beg me to make you cum."