Short Story after the Sport
- 3 years ago
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Time marched on. The weekly visits from Amud and Bala resumed without further incident. Janey wore her collar occasionally, even skipping some weekends she was entitled to wear it. Her social life was picking back up and she was just too busy to be tied up all weekend, pun intended.
Sally started getting back to normal, too. Thank God! Although I don't think Janey appreciated it. Getting back to normal meant that she now had time to focus on her daughter's life, not just her own submissiveness. I heard the two of them more and more, chatting, laughing, chiding and chaffing; just normal parent-teenager stuff.
At one point Sally even enlisted my help. After her last request for my help, she had tended to take things having to do with Janey on herself, especially lately. She seemed determined to show me that things were back to normal. I just grinned and let her deal with it for the most part, mainly because teenagers were aliens as far as I was concerned and the females of that species were as perplexing as human females. It was also good for Sally to know that she could do it herself.
This time, however, Sally was beyond herself. Janey had been coming home late from school. Nothing unusual so far, as she often had activities after school. Her cheerleading coach had called one afternoon, however, and asked where Janey was, as she had taken a leave of absence from the squad for the entire basketball season. Nothing surprising there really, given what had happened. Then there was her refusal to tell Sally what was going on, why she was late. OK, that was unusual, as were the tears and rips, crudely mended, in some of her gym clothing. She was also spending a lot of time in the whirlpool after school, alone.
Nothing Sally did convinced Janey to talk. Threats, promises, bribes to her friends, talks with the teachers, nothing. It didn't sound too serious to me, but to keep Sally happy, I decided to look into it. Sally made me promise to be discrete. What? Me? Heavy-handed?
It took several days, but I found out what Janey was doing after school. I couldn't believe it, but she was practicing with the boy's wrestling team. For a while I thought she was just hanging around trying to get a cute boy's attention — as if she needed to do that! But she was going through all the practice drills with the team and even scrimmaged with the others in her weight class. She lost, but she didn't do badly and she kept getting better. Like her mother, she was a scrapper.
OK. Now I knew what. But why? No amount of digging revealed that to me. I kept at it for several weeks, during which time I didn't say a word to either of them. Janey went to practice every day and, as I watched her covertly, got better, much better, to the point where she finally won a spot on the starting roster.
The day the roster was posted, I was waiting for Janey outside the girl's locker room door. Her expression was priceless, much like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar, but not knowing how she was found out.
"Uh, Hi, Dad. Just driving by?" she asked hopefully.
"Nope."
"Oh. Is everything OK at home? Did Mom send you to pick me up?" She tried to sound worried, but didn't succeed.
"Nope."
"Oh." She was silent for while. "You know?"
"Yep."
"Does Mom know?" I could tell she dreaded that for some reason.
"Nope..."
Her head whipped up to look at me at that. Hope flooded the car like a gully washer.
" ... not yet."
"Oh, please Dad," she pleaded, "don't tell her. Please!"
"Tell me something, kiddo." I turned to look at her. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why wrestling? Is it a guy? Don't we give you enough affection at home? Why?"
Janey was so cute when she blushed and giggled. Damn, she was beautiful! Who was I kidding?
"Oh, Daaaad."
I felt like I finally belonged to that great and honorable club of patriarchs. I had just exasperated my teenager and been addressed in the proper fashion.
"Well?"
She looked at me, now thoroughly exasperated. I wanted an answer from her and wasn't going to take a cutesy blush as a diversion. It almost worked, though.
"It's hard to explain," she said evasively.
"Try me."
"It started as a dare," she said, finally
Oh, shit. I shuddered when I remembered some of the things I had heard about — and participated in — that started out with a dare. Old Mrs. Johnson would never be the same after waking up with 25 naked and very obviously horny teenaged boys in her bedroom. Well, she was old to us. 25 is a lot older than 16...
"I see. Who dared you?" I asked her
"Well, that's where it's confusing. I guess I sort of did myself. You see, there was this cute guy..."
I knew it!
" ... and he was, well, there was an argument about how tough wrestling was and that's how come there weren't any girls on the team. I sort of got volunteered to make the team if I could."
"Oh, a challenge, not a dare."
I felt slightly better, but not much. I remembered some challenges I had participated in, too, mostly having to do with bare chests at sub-zero temperature football games in college.
"Yeah, I talked it over with the men's coach and he said OK, as long as I had triple protection over my, you know," she indicated her crotch, " and a double strength athletic bra. I talked to the women's gym teacher — she thought I was crazy — and she helped me get all that stuff.
"You know, wrestling's tough!" she ended.
"But you made the roster for the next match! Aren't you excited?"
"Geeze, Dad. What do you do? Know everything?" She looked at me suspiciously.
"Only about the people I care about," I kidded. "Seriously, your Mom was concerned and asked me to look into it. I did."
"It was nice to make the roster. I earned it, too. But I'm not too thrilled about my first match. I have to wrestle the defending State Champ, probably twice."
"Twice?"
"It's a double-elimination with four schools. You have to lose twice to be out. I'm the only other one entered in this weight class, so the rules say we have to wrestle twice."
Something in her voice didn't sound right. "What's the problem?"
"Oh, it's nothing. Just I heard when he found out he might have to wrestle a girl, he made some pretty rude comments about what he would do to me."
She started to cry, little tears trickling down her face.
"You want me to stop your match?"
She shook her head fiercely.
"No. I know it must be strange for him, you know? But why can't he just fight me like a guy. I mean, I know I'm not a guy, but dang it, Dad, why are some guys such big assholes?"
Now, how often do you get 'dang it' and 'asshole' from your sweet innocent little girl in the same sentence? She was serious, too! It was, however, an eternal question. I didn't know the answer, and knew if I said anything, she would know I didn't know. I said nothing.
We drove home in silence, her only request was that I not let Sally know. I told her I couldn't promise to do that. I felt it was her Mom's right to know about this. But I told her I wouldn't spoil her match.
Friday night came. Janey didn't come home as it was an away match at one of the other schools. That night before dinner I handed Sally a big shopping bag and told her we were going out for the evening. She started to open the bag, but I stopped her. What was in the bag was for later.
It was unusual for us to go out, so she was excited. I think she was curious when I headed for a small town about 25 miles away and not our usual bistro. I kept up a banal line of chatter for the hour drive, not letting on what was up.
The fare at the local diner was a disappointment, but the company was excellent. I think Sally felt the same way too, but now she was more curious than ever. She dropped hints, finally asking me point blank. I ignored both the hints and the direct hints. As 7:30 approached I handed her the bag and told her she'd better get ready.
Her face was a study in perplexion as she pulled out a big floppy hat, an over-sized pair of sunglasses and a bulky shapeless overcoat. I had her put them all on — she was surprised she got to keep her other clothes on, I think — and we headed back to the car. She was even more puzzled when we pulled into the crowded high school parking lot. I don't know if she noticed the big yellow bus from Janey's high school in the lot, but I parked right next to it.
The gym was a cacophony of noise as we entered as the early matches already underway. Behind her sunglasses I could see her questioning eyes darting around trying to discover what we were doing at a high school wrestling match. I could tell to the millisecond when she spotted Janey. I still have the bruises on my arm to prove it.
"You knew what she was doing all along?"
"Kind of."
"Kind of? What the Hell does that mean?"
"Well, I knew what she was doing, just not why."
"Oh."
I was amazed to get away with that simple of an answer. Sally knew my inquisitive nature. She knew of my protective instincts and the honor code I lived by. If Janey had asked me not to tell, I wouldn't, if I could. I had known and that's all that mattered. If Janey had been in trouble, I would have intervened. Sally had asked for my help, after all.
"Well, you could at least have told me..."
I was going to hear about this for a long time, I could tell.
They called Janey's match. It was painful to watch. The kid she fought really was good, but, as she had said, he was an asshole. He toyed with her. He never quite did anything inappropriate, but I could tell towards the end that the referees were beginning to watch where he put his hands on her body. He pinned her with 7 seconds remaining in the last period. Like a trouper, Janey shook his hand — after his coach made the asshole come back out onto the mat — then she made her way back to her school's bench.
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EroticThe next morning, the Emir visited her again and was pleased to see that she had not been moved from the whipping bench and the blue and purple colour of her flesh showed that there was no part of her anatomy from her heels to the back of her neck which had escaped the whipping, and yet the skin had not been broken. She was asleep, in what seemed to be a perfectly normal sleep, so he woke her with a brisk slap on the left buttock. She screamed awake most satisfactorily. "Please, no more,"...
This is my second attempt at writing a story. It is a true account of one of my golf trips. If you like older/younger stories and some spanking, you might like this story. I don't think it is as wild as my first story, but I still have fond memories of the experience. Again, if you are not eighteen years or older, do not read this story as it contains explicit sexual content. It was several years ago. Every year I would travel to Myrtle Beach with a bunch of friends, most were my cop buddies. I...
Oral SexJan. 11, 2000Here begins the mission journal of Samuel French. I'm a 19-year oldcollege freshman - well, I'm taking a semester off for this. I'm about togo on a missionary trip into Brazil! I never really expected it, butabout four months ago, a missionary on tour in the US came and spoke inour church, and I really felt a calling - no, a Calling - to gomyself. Nothing like that had happened to me before.When I talked to the church's missions board about it, they were reallyexcited, because...
My first gang bangs.I had just turned 21 and I was involved with a good friend and lover. His name was Todd. Not really your ideal man (so to speak) but he was the love of my life at the time. We were seeing each other as a steady couple for over a year. Sex was great and we did our best to keep it that way.One night while shooting pool in a bar and having a few too many drinks. Todd had a lot more then usual and I was way beyond my limit and feeling no pain. Both Todd and I were a little...
The Mistress Cruise Part 1 Jim, mother is coming over for an early dinner today, would you be a dear and run to the store and pick us up some food and make us a nice dinner. I have a few places to go with her tonight, and we want to leave at 9 so we would like to eat at 6, if that is OK. Of course hun, where are you going? A surprise for you, but we need you to drive. I will be out most of the day, so I will catch up with you later, come give me a hug said Mary, Jim's wife of 15...
I had become lonely and unsatisfied in my marriage, so I decide to join one of the adult online websites. I was not looking for a new relationship, just someone to hook-up with, fuck, and have good conversation with if the opportunity arose. I met Jas online. After his first message, I could tell he was one of those strong dominate types. He was the kind of man that knew exactly what he wanted. After several messages we seemed to be looking for the same things. We both wanted a no strings...
Bad. So fucking bad. She wasn't an adulterer, not technically, because she and Charles weren't yet married, but she had acted exactly like a fallen woman, or even some stupid, out-of-control slut. And the fact that the sex had been so incredible was no excuse. Each astounding orgasm with William had been a betrayal, every sublime shudder a hard stab at the heart of her relationship with Charles. Why, then, did some part of her feel like a triumphal sex goddess? Why did she feel like...
That weekend Mr. Thompson would send me text messages. Some were simple, “whore”, “slut”. Others a bit more threatening, “i own you and you’re family”. And yet others tender, like a kiss emoji. My mind was all over the place. What was I to Mr. Thompson? Property? A pet? More?I was so confused as I lay in bed each night, reading and re-reading his texts, replaying the last two weeks in my head. I felt gross, used, disgusted as I thought of him blackmailing and fucking me. But then I thought of...
“You didn’t leave yet?” Jessica scoffed. She pointed to the baker sitting on the island counter. It was her sister’s property I didn’t know why I had to return it but every decent man knows not to say such things aloud to his wife. “Alright, alright, I’ll get going,” I huffed. In an over exaggerated manner, I got up from the couch. The stupid container seemingly smiled at me. It knew it was ruining my afternoon plans. It wasn’t alive or sentient, but it knew. The drive to Julie’s house was...
The moment has finally arrived! We’re ready to get this lovely lady fucked filled and fed. Patti is on the bench, she’s got a big ol’ smile on her face. That white dress glowing in the light. Fuckin’ is the universal language so the guys get right down to it. The lift that skirt and get to munching on her pussy as she fills her hands and mouth full of cock. The guys all rotate round and round, fucking her as she’s on her back. We also found out our very own Randy...
xmoviesforyouI entered Rio Blanco with no particular expectations. My Spanish is not all that great, but I think that I can make myself understood, most of the time. I went into the nearest cantina and looked around. Damn! I was elated! There was Scarface sitting at a table drinking a beer. I stopped off at the bar and ordered my own beer, picked it up, and sat down at the table with Scarface. I did make a point to sit with my back toward a wall; I had learned something from my deputy marshal...
They’ve done this before. Once we finished our shower, I massaged skin moisturizing lotion into the skin on both girls. At breakfast, I introduced Sidney to my parents. While the two girls got reacquainted, I reached out to Camden to see if she knew anything about the girl’s family. Chrissy, Sidney, Cassey, and the three babies were enjoying the heated pool when Corwin called me. “David,” Corwin said in a more formal variation of her family’s language. “Their parents were not the daughters...
The office holiday party was getting into its frankly carnal stage. Married staffers who wanted to steer clear of trouble were saying their goodbyes or simply walking away. Unmarried staffers, and some of the married ones who were looking for trouble, were visibly shifting gears, appraising their best prospects for ending the evening in somebody else's bed. Or simply finding some action in a shadowy corner of the large warehouse and gallery space the company had rented for the evening. Music...
This story is as real as it gets. I dedicate this true story to all the guys out there who want actual real stories of guys fucking real women. At the time that this story begain, I was sneaking around on my ex. If you ask just about any man who is a pro at cheating, he will tell you that a woman who can keep her mouth shut is the most important feature that he looks for in a side fling. About 6 years ago at the age of 32 as I was breaking things off with my ex girlfriend. I was...