The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Colchester Academy for Women had maintained a girls’ soccer team, the Rockets, for many years; it was the school’s only organized team sport. In the past the team had played against the local high schools, but this was becoming more difficult. The public school teams were growing more and more aggressive and the Colchester players didn’t want to compromised their femininity to perform at this level.

“The typical public school student has no manners and no upbringing,” complained Rockets Coach Diana Stahl. “I dread seeing our refined young women crossing paths with such uncouth girls.” Indeed, her team was renowned for their good looks, and the lovely team captain Meghan Blake had been photographed in a bikini for the cover of Private Academy Monthly.

There was also the matter of the Colchester team’s cheerleading squad, the Rocketeers. Eleven of the most beautiful seniors in the school wanted to lead cheers, and this was the only team they could cheer for. But the public schools didn’t have cheerleaders for women’s soccer, so it was ridiculous to have games where one side had cheerleaders and the other didn’t.

With all those challenges in mind, the school administrators were intrigued to learn of an exclusive soccer league for private women’s academies. Not only were the players more refined, but the teams were required to have cheerleading squads.

It goes without saying that the school considered the proposition from every angle before applying for membership in the league. Some details, of course, only merited a cursory examination. The bylaws for the cheerleading squads, for example, were barely glanced at, until after Colchester was enrolled as a member of the league.

Sharon Davies, the head cheerleader, was a redheaded 18-year-old, tall, beautiful and athletic, but also a straight-A student. Reviewing the new cheerleading bylaws, she raised a lovely eyebrow and brought her objections to Jillian Gallagher, the pretty faculty advisor for the Rocketeers.

“The league has regulation cheerleader outfits that must be worn during and after every game!” said Sharon. “The only thing we can change are the colors!”

“New uniforms? I would think that’s a good thing!” said Miss Gallagher.

“But look at this design! It’s so flirtatious! Does that make sense? There are no young men in the bleachers to appreciate them; the crowd consists of girls and a few parents.”

Miss Gallagher studied the outfit design, which consisted of a sleeveless blouse with a plunging neckline, and a micro-skirt that concealed nothing. “I agree that they’re very daring; but we must keep up with the times, after all.”

“And I don’t understand these bylaws,” Sharon continued. “’The cheerleading squad must make themselves available on the date of competition, even if the game is cancelled.’”

“I’m sure they’re just protecting themselves. Cheerleading squads are notorious for being no-shows when a game isn’t convenient for them.”

“Maybe so,” conceded Sharon. “Did you see this one? ‘Members of the squad must be eighteen years or older.’ That leaves out Stacy and Tess, they’re only sixteen.”

“They’ll have their chance when they’re older. I was thinking of asking Arlene Politano and Annabelle Rose to join the squad.”

“That would be great if they’re interested,” Sharon replied. Her heartbeat quickened. Arlene and Annabelle were the most beautiful girls in the school. She became a bit lightheaded imagining them in cheerleader uniforms.

“But how about this one?” she went on. “’In the event of a team loss, the cheerleading squad, in uniform, will be given to the winning team for their victory party.’”

Miss Gallagher chuckled. “That will certainly motivate the squad to support the team! In any case I’m sure it’s just harmless fun, and only for a couple of hours.”

Sharon liked Miss Gallagher, but thought the young faculty advisor was far too complacent about these bylaws. She wondered if the raven-haired teacher had noticed the bylaw that specifically pertained to her own beautiful self.

A week later the outfits arrived, and the squad gathered in the locker room to try them on. Each outfit was labeled for the girl it belonged to. As Sharon handed them out, she was surprised that one was included for Miss Gallagher.

“This must be some mistake,” said the teacher as Sharon gave the outfit to her.

“The bylaws have a clause,” said Sharon, “that states that the cheerleading squad is composed of participating students and any staff or advisor affiliated with them.”

Miss Gallagher exclaimed, “But that would mean that I myself must wear a cheerleader uniform, and abide by all the same rules as must you!” She turned pale. “Excuse me, I need to make a call.”

The rest of the squad tried on the uniforms. The fits were perfect, but the young women were anxious about the revealing style. In particular they were unhappy with the panties, which covered very little; the slightest breeze would lift the short shirts and completely reveal the students’ buttocks.

Just then, Miss Gallagher returned, having put on her uniform. “They have a no-exceptions policy,” she said quietly.

Sharon was momentarily rendered speechless by the faculty advisor’s appearance. In the flirtatious short outfit, Miss Gallagher was transformed from a sober academic into a female built for sex. Indeed, it would be difficult for her students to regard her as an authority on world literature after seeing her dressed like this. The nubile young teacher was in excellent shape, though her hips were a bit wider, and her breasts larger and more full than any of the students. Taking this all in, Sharon was confounded by a forbidden yearning to ask Miss Gallagher out on a date.

“Can you give us a spin, Jillian?” she said. As the teacher turned, Sharon noted that her exposed buttocks were smooth and firm. “It seems all of us will want to spend as much time as possible standing next to walls,” Sharon joked. The teacher looked over her shoulder and regarded herself in the mirror. “I’m afraid you’re right,” she said.

As the season commenced, the Colchester Rockets began with a winning streak, cheered to victory by the enthusiastic Rocketeers. Somewhat liberated by their fantastically brief outfits, the cheerleaders soared to new heights of athleticism and acrobatics. Game attendance also soared as curious students packed the stadiums.

Miss Gallagher dutifully wore her Rocketeer uniform and was dissuaded from hiding in the locker room. She became a sensation among the all-female student body, many of whom began composing love sonnets to the teacher in the backs of their notebooks. It took some effort for the brunette instructor to adjust to all the attention.

Sharon wondered what happened to the cheerleading squads of the losing teams who were “given” to the Rockets players for their victory parties. She was friends with many members of the team, pretty, athletic girls who were equally competent in the classroom and on the field; she loathed to think that they were capable of anything evil. The rumor was that they had a collection of hula hoops, and obliged the beautiful defeated cheerleaders to somersault through them. Nothing too terrible, Sharon thought, just rubbing their noses in it a bit.

On several occasions after a game, Sharon spotted the beautiful faculty advisors for the defeated squads who, like Miss Gallagher, were obliged to dress in the short, revealing cheerleader uniforms. What struck Sharon as odd was that they were always being escorted by Rockets Coach Diana Stahl to her office. Sharon was curious—what business was the tough athletics coach conducting behind closed doors with these luminous young teachers dressed as cheerleaders, whose teams had just been defeated?

With all their victories, the Rockets still understood what was ahead of them. Their next game would be against the Montpelier Tomahawks, who not only were undefeated this year, but were the champions for the previous five. Coach Stahl set aside an entire week of practice to prepare the team for the Tomahawk’s strategies and tactics. Miss Gallagher put the Rocketeers through extra drills so they would perform at their peak.

Sharon studied photos of the beautiful Montpelier cheerleading squad, the Kitty Hawks, and she happened to glance at a picture of the Tomahawks top player, Rayne Belladona, a tanned muscular beauty who projected a disquieting self-confidence that made Sharon tremble. The beautiful redhead sensed that all of the Colchester’s preparations would be for naught against Rayne’s team.

On the day of the game, the Rocketeers’ minivan followed the soccer team bus on the long ride to Montpelier. The beautiful squad of cheerleaders were quiet and anxious as they approached the home base of their opponents. Sitting shotgun while Miss Gallagher drove, Sharon smiled over at the fair-skinned faculty advisor. The beautiful teacher returned the smile with difficulty. She too was apprehensive.

As they assembled in the away-team locker room, Sharon happened to catch a glimpse inside the Kitty Hawks quarters as the door was closing. She whispered to her teammate Arlene, “Did you see that?”

“What?”

“The Kitty Hawks cheerleading squad, they’re all kneeling in there with their heads bowed.”

“I didn’t know this was a religious school.”

“I don’t think it is, but they were definitely worshipping some thing or somebody.”

In the pre-game cheering, the Kitty Hawks made an earnest effort to boost their team, but they were underwhelming, as if the girls had been drained of energy. In contrast, the Rocketeers took the field with enormous enthusiasm and verve. If the players could live up to the cheerleading, Sharon thought, then the Tomahawks wouldn’t stand a chance. As the league champion home team took to the field, Sharon led a series of taunting chants that she hoped would play with their heads. When the Rockets followed them onto the field, the squad screamed their lungs out with unbridled fervor.

In the opening minutes of the game, Sharon took heart from the aggressive competence of the Rockets, who countered the Tomahawks at every turn and were closing in on a goal. But just as the Rockets captain Meghan Blake was about to make the scoring kick, she was abruptly intercepted and knocked to the ground by the Tomahawks captain Rayne Belladonna. The referee ruled it a legal maneuver, and when Meghan failed to get up, the Montpelier fans went wild. As the beautiful lead player was carried off the field, Rayne strutted about smiling with her fists raised, cheered on by her elated fans.

After that, the Tomahawks easily dominated. With the loss of their best player, the Rockets were intimidated and demoralized; none of them wanted to be the next to be struck down. Word came at halftime that Meghan had been hospitalized.

Sitting on the bleachers, the Rocketeers fell silent, trembling as the outcome became clear; their team would lose, and the beautiful cheerleaders from Colchester would be “given” to the opposing team! Soon after, their worst fears were realized as the Tomahawks cruised to victory in a 29—0 blowout.

After the game, Miss Gallagher approached Sharon. “Sweetheart, I know you and Meghan are close. I want you to take a cab and go see her at the hospital. Let her know that the team is thinking about her.”

“Does this mean that I won’t be required to appear at the victory celebration?” asked the distraught redhead.

“Oh no, you’re obligated to attend. They’re only giving you permission to be a half hour late. You’d better get going, I called a Lyft.” She gave Sharon a hug and hurried off to help the other girls prepare for the dreaded victory party. In a daze, Sharon looked after her, wondering when she’d get another chance to be hugged by the voluptuous young teacher.

At the hospital, Sharon went to Meghan’s bedside and clutched the beautiful athlete’s hand. “Are you all right?” the redheaded cheerleader asked.

“I can barely move. They don’t know what’s wrong with me,” said Meghan in a faint voice. “Maybe it’s just psychological. All I know is that Rayne struck me, and then I was on the ground and couldn’t breathe.”

Sharon assured her, “You’ll be back on the field in a few days, training for the next game.”

“Oh no,” cried Meghan, “I don’t want to ever play soccer again. I can’t take the chance of running into that evil girl again. Next time I think she would kill me!”

The Tomahawks victory party was held in barracks owned by the team. As she entered, Sharon was surprised by how quiet it was. She found some of the Tomahawks teammates sitting around a table playing cards. Meanwhile, six beautiful Colchester cheerleaders stood with their backs to the wall, tensely watching the card game and waiting.

Sharon was dumbfounded. Where were the other girls? Where was Miss Gallagher, who Sharon expected to chaperone the party?

“You’re Sharon, aren’t you?” said a voice behind her. The redheaded cheerleader turned to discover a muscular tanned girl approaching her. As she came up next to her, Sharon was transfixed by the exotic beauty of this girl, as if her dark features were displayed across a cinemascopic movie screen. “My name is Rayne. You belong to me tonight,” she said with a playful shrug.

She casually unbuttoned the jacket Sharon was wearing. “Take this off, dear. I want to see your cheerleading outfit. Hang it in there.” The beautiful redhead hastily removed her jacket and retreated to find a hanger for it in the cloakroom. The other girl followed close behind her. “Leave your tennies in there as well.” After Sharon had removed her tennis shoes and tucked them in a corner of the closet, the tanned athlete studied her up and down. “My, how pretty you look,” she declared, and took the barefoot girl by the arm. “Come with me.”

Dressed only in the flirtatious cheerleader outfit, Sharon felt humiliated as the tanned young athlete marched her across the floor into a side room. An involuntary cry escaped from her lips as Rayne shut the door and latched it.

With the two of them alone, the young athlete rested her hands on the beautiful redhead’s bare shoulders. “You know, I dropped your lovely friend Meghan with a very light tap on her brachial plexus. It’s located right here, see?” She stroked the side of Sharon’s neck with her finger. “Of course I would never do that to you; we have so many other fun things to do. Smile for me, will you? I want to see your pretty smile.” Sharon trembled at the thought of how easily this girl could put her into the hospital. Desperately she forced herself to smile. The other girl laughed. “How pretty you are!” She held Sharon at arms length and admired the beautiful cheerleader.

She turned Sharon around and roughly shoved her towards an ottoman in the middle of the floor. “Climb onto that, please.”

Sharon obediently mounted the low piece of furniture on her hands and knees. The other girl lifted the back of Sharon’s skirt up and laid it across the small of her back. The beautiful redhead felt a cool breeze caress the two globes of her exposed bottom. The tanned brunette rested her left hand on Sharon’s back. She lightly stroked Sharon’s buttocks with her right hand, and brushed her fingers down the backs of Sharon’s thighs. A shudder came over the beautiful cheerleader and she sighed with a sharp intake of breath.

Spak! Spak! Spak! The athletic girl slapped the cheerleaders naked buttocks three times. They weren’t hard slaps; they didn’t even hurt. Sharon exhaled in sudden unaccountable relief.

Spak! Spak! Spak! The tanned girl slapped her again. It caught Sharon by surprise and she spun about. “How much do you plan on spanking me?” she cried.

“Get back in position, please,” the girl said. Sharon complied; after all, the young athlete wasn’t really giving her a choice, She felt silly, being intimidated by a few gentle pats on her rear end. Again, the tanned athlete lifted Sharon’s skirt and folded it across her back.

Spak! Spak! Spak! Another three slaps were administered to Sharon’s behind. The redheaded girl waited, assuming it wasn’t over.

Spak! Spak! Spak! Three more blows, like the ones before.

Spak! Spak! Spak! The beautiful redhead gasped. There was a rhythm to this, the same exact time between smacks.

Spak! Spak! Spak! Sharon tossed her head fretfully. This didn’t really hurt, but she felt she was being teased and made to feel like a fool.

Spak! Spak! Spak! Her assailant didn’t appear to be in any kind of hurry. How long was she planning to spank Sharon?

The athletic student kept spanking Sharon in the same unhurried cadence while the minutes passed. The beautiful redhead felt like she would go mad, trying to endure the gentle assault. Spak! Spak! Spak! ... Spak! Spak! Spak! ... Spak! Spak! Spak!

Sharon cried out in anguish, inwardly cursing her own weakness.

“Be quiet, dear,” said Rayne. “Bend over more and lift your pretty behind. Your head should hang down with shame.” Sharon had no reason to be ashamed, but she did what she was told.

The tanned athlete went to the other side of Sharon, steadied the pretty redhead with her right hand and stroked Sharon’s buttocks and the backs of her thighs. She continued the spanking, without regard for the distress she was stirring in her young victim. Spak! Spak! Spak! ... Spak! Spak! Spak! ...Spak! Spak! Spak!,

After a time, she stopped. “I think that’s enough for now. Get up from there and take off your clothes, please.” Sharon rose from the ottoman and removed her uniform and undergarments while the muscular girl watched. She was confused and didn’t understand why she was stripping for this other student. She wanted to object, but remembered that Rayne had told her to be quiet.

After discarding the last of her clothing, Sharon stood in all her beautiful nudity in front of the tanned athlete, her generous bosom rising and falling as she inhaled and exhaled.

“Arms straight out, dear, and lift your right leg,” said Rayne. Without thinking, Sharon raised her arms and balanced on her left leg with her right leg raised. “Good girl. Now switch legs, please.” The beautiful redhead put her right leg down and lifted her left. She posed thusly before the assertive athlete. Rayne steadied Sharon with a hand on her shoulder and studied the cheerleader’s luscious bosom. Sharon was so overwhelmed and confounded that her eyes welled with tears and a forlorn sob escaped from her lips.

“Poor sweetheart, I know this is all very new to you,” said Rayne. “Kneel on the ottoman with your palms on your thighs. I’ll get you something to quiet you.”

When Rayne returned from the other room, the beautiful redhead was kneeling expectantly, her palms resting on the tops of her smooth white thighs. The athlete held up a small pink rubber object. “See? It’s just for you.” It was an adult-size pacifier, and Sharon’s name was printed on it.

Rayne unbuttoned her blouse and exposed her firm right breast. She rubbed the bulb of the pacifier against her nipple. “See what I’m doing here? You’ll be able to taste me.” She buttoned up again and held out the pacifier. “Open your mouth.” Sharon did so. Rayne stuck the pacifier between the girl’s lips. “Draw on it.” The beautiful cheerleader pursed her lips around the pacifier and began sucking. She tasted the dark athlete’s nipple, as if it were in her mouth.

“Good girl,” said Rayne. “I can feel your lips on me, I can tell that you love me.” It was true, thought Sharon; she felt an insane, hopelessly desire for the Tomahawk player.

“To assuage your rational mind,” said Rayne, “let me explain what I’m doing to you. It’s a behavior modification technique called regression discipline. I learned it when I interned at my grandmother’s ranch in Wyoming. Nobody really knows how it works; it’s supposedly based on an ancient New Guinea ritual for human sacrifice. It’s a simple technique, but very powerful, as I’m sure you’re experiencing. I’ve taught it to my teammates, and we use it on cheerleaders all the time.”

Rayne took Sharon by the shoulders and turned the cheerleader to face her. “Understand, darling, after I’m done regressing you, you’ll be eager to do anything I ask. Isn’t that wonderful?” Sharon wanted to scream, but with the pacifier in her mouth she could utter nothing more than a whimper.

Rayne gave Sharon a squeeze. “Ok, enough small talk. Time for me to finish you off. On your hands and knees, that’s a good girl.” Obediently, Sharon bent over and raised her naked bottom. She looked over her shoulder anxiously at the tanned student.

The brunette resumed the spanking. Spak! Spak! Spak! ... Spak! Spak! Spak! Her palm fell not just on Sharon’s buttocks but all over the redhead’s voluptuous naked body; her back, her legs, her breasts. Spak! Spak! Spak! ... Spak! Spak! Spak!

The distraught girl knew she couldn’t escape the evil student. The young athlete was regressing her in this nonchalant fashion, and there was nothing she could do to stop her. The room was quiet except for the relentless pat of Rayne open palm against her flesh, Spak! Spak! Spak! ... Spak! Spak! Spak! ... Spak! Spak! Spak!

Two hours earlier, Miss Gallagher had escorted the squad of nervous cheerleaders into the Tomahawks party room. The party had not really started yet; two of the girls from the Tomahawks team were at a table playing cards. They looked over and chuckled, then went back to their card playing. The beautiful teacher led the other girls over to a sectional couch to sit and wait.

Over the course of the season, the student advisor had grown accustomed to wearing a cheerleader uniform to the games; but in this context she felt exposed and vulnerable. She loathed the prospect of being ogled by the Tomahawks team, as if she were nothing more than a bimbo. She had no idea what she would say if one of the victorious athletes singled out the young teacher and wanted do things to her.

Just then a lean older woman approached her. “Are you Jillian Gallagher?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Jane Faye, the Tomahawks coach, and I gather you are the faculty advisor for these young ladies. May I have a word with you in my office? It’s just down the hall.”

“Of course,” said Jillian, eager for a reprieve from the victory party.

She accompanied the other woman out. The coach took hold of Jillian arm to guide her to the office. Coach Faye was a tough-looking woman with olive skin that hadn’t seen makeup in many a year. She sported buzz-cut blonde hair that completed the look. Normally Jillian was adverse to her type, but she was grateful for how courteous the woman was being.

“Have a seat,” said the coach as they entered her office. Jillian chose a chair and the coach sat opposite from her, crossed her muscular legs and folded her hands over her knee.

“I wanted to talk to you about the bylaws of the soccer league” said the coach. “As a coach, I can pretty much do what I please. Not so for a faculty advisor to the cheerleading squad. You, my dear, must abide by every clause that applies to your squad.”

“Perhaps that’s true,” said Jillian.

“I assure you it is. And that goes for the victory party as well.”

“But that just can’t be!”

The coach shrugged. “What is mere harmless fun for a teenager can be awkward for a faculty member. You may not be comfortable being ‘given’ to a student for a spanking and other indignities.”

“I certainly wouldn’t be!” cried Jillian. She imagined being in the custody of a mischievious eighteen-year-old athlete who wanted to spank her bottom.

“But there’s another option. As the coach, I enjoy the same privileges as the team.”

Jillian furrowed her brow. “So you’re suggesting I be ‘given’ to you, instead.”

“That’s the idea.”

“And then we could dispense with the spanking?”

“I’m afraid not,” said the coach. “What’s at stake here is good sportsmanship, following through on commitments, all the values we’re trying to teach to young people.”

“Yes, of course,” said Jillian. She swallowed hard. “So you’re going to spank me.”

“Yes, I will personally give you a spanking in the privacy of this office.”

The beautiful faculty advisor couldn’t meet the other woman’s eyes; she bowed her head and stared at the floor.

“Is that acceptable to you, dear?” asked the coach.

“Yes, m’am,” said Jillian in a tiny voice.

“Very well,” said the blonde woman. She stood up and carefully closed the shades on the windows. She turned the latch on the door. “That should afford us some privacy,” she said with a smile. She produced a black scarf from a desk drawer and spread it on the floor in front of Jillian. “This is known as the veil of sacrifice. Take your shoes off, dear.”

The young teacher slipped out of her tennis shoes. The other woman sat down opposite her. “Kneel on the veil, please.” Puzzled, the beautiful brunette got down on the floor and knelt on the piece of cloth, barefoot and trembling. In her brief cheerleader uniform she looked incredibly innocent and desirable.

“Good. Now offer yourself to me.” The coach smiled pleasantly down at her.

“Offer myself?” cried Jillian. “Why on earth?”

The coach smiled. “I’ve learned that ceremony and ritual can be so important. I’m sure you’ll feel better if you just do as I say.”

“Very well,” said Jillian. “Will you take me...”

“You can call me Miss Jane,” suggested the woman helpfully.

Jillian repeated, “Will you take me, Miss Jane, please?”

“Of course I will,” the blonde woman said. “Come here, dear.” She took the young teacher into her lap and gave her a friendly hug. Then she slipped her right arm under Miss Gallagher’s legs and stood, lifting the beautiful teacher with amazing ease, as if she weighed nothing.

Jillian hadn’t been picked up and carried since she was a child, and she found the experience alarming. “Let me show you around,” said the blonde faculty member. “You’ve seen my reception room.” She stepped through a door. “This is my inner office.” She turned so that Jillian could see. “I have a personal bath and shower,” she said, stepping into the spacious lavatory briefly.

“And these,” said Jane, “are my private quarters.” She carried Jillian into a small room of dark polished wood. It had a television and stereo, and against one wall a cot with pillows. The blonde woman took Jillian over to the cot and set her down on her back. She climbed on top of Jillian, pinning down the young teacher’s arms. She began unbuttoning the front of Jillian’s cheerleader blouse.

“Wait... please!” cried Jillian.

“What is it, child?” the woman asked in a kindly tone.

“Miss Jane, I didn’t know you were going to undress me.”

“It’s how I prefer it when I’m spanking a woman” said the blonde, as if she gave women spankings all the time. “I don’t like clothes to get in the way. It’s nothing personal, and of course I’ll remain dressed. From what I see, dear, you have nothing to be ashamed of.” She smiled and affectionately tapped the adorable young teacher on the nose.

Jane continued with calm efficiency, lifting and turning Jillian until she had stripped her completely nude. Then she sat on the cot and pulled the beautiful teacher onto her lap.

“Now listen to Miss Jane, dear. I’m going to give you a spanking now. I’m doing this to punish you, because your team lost the game. It was stupid of you to cheer for a losing team. And you never should have taunted my team; I’m morally obligated to pay you back in spades for that. Do you understand me, dear?”

“Yes, Miss Jane.” A terrified Jillian flashed back to the silly insults her squad shouted at the Tomahawks as they took the field. It suddenly occurred to her that it had all been heard by the unforgiving harridan who now held the trembling young woman naked and vulnerable in her lap.

“I will be very gentle,” the blonde woman continued in a casual tone. She stroked the length of Jillian’s thigh with her finger. “Your spanking will last about an hour. Your lovely buttocks won’t suffer any lasting damage. You will find it unpleasant when I’m punishing you, of course, but I expect you to act like a courteous young lady. I won’t tolerate any shrieks or blubbering. I expect you to be perfectly quiet. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Miss Jane,” the naked teacher whispered.

“After I finish punishing you, I’ll give you a chance to make it up to me for being stupid and naughty. I want to find out what you taste like, and how skilled you are at kissing. But the spanking comes first. Now roll over on your stomach, please.”

Jillian draped herself over the blonde’s lap, and felt the other woman take secure hold of her. She would not be able to escape whatever Jane had planned for her. Jane stroked the beautiful teacher’s firm rump in a circular motion, and then lifted her hand. Jillian braced herself.

Spak! Spak! Spak! Jane spanked the young brunette three times and paused. Spak! Spak! Spak! A second set of blows fell on Jillian’s right buttock only. Spak! Spak! Spak! This time the blonde was spanking only Jillian’s left buttock.

The next set of spanks were aimed at the upper part of Jillian’s right hip. The ones that followed were directed at the back of her left thigh. Then the spanking returned to the beautiful teacher’s buttocks, Spak! Spak! Spak!

Jillian trembled with melancholy. In less than two minutes, the female coach had already managed to humiliate and unnerve her like nothing she’d ever experienced. Oh! Now she was spanking the tops of Jillian’s buttocks.

The lovely educator could feel a tingling that was just beginning to cover the soft, sensitive areas of her naked behind. Every few seconds she recoiled from the meticulous chastisement that she could not escape. The blonde coach was coolly intent on enacting her designs on Jillian’s posterior, without regard to the harm she was inflicting on the innocent young woman.

Spak! Spak! Spak! ... Spak! Spak! Spak! ... Spak! Spak! Spak! What most troubled Jillian about the beating Jane was inflicting on her was the sound of it, an unvaried cadence of gentle pats that was invading the beautiful teacher’s mind, making it impossible for her to think and concentrate.

As an anthropology student, she had read sordid accounts of tribes in New Guinea who kidnapped nubile young Dutch women, rendered them naked and used them as human percussive instruments for royal entertainments; the smacking of palm against flesh was a sweet sound that tribal queens savored. It was said that the unfortunate girls who provided this cruel entertainment would be unharmed physically but would lose their minds in the process. Thinking that this was happening to her, Jillian wanted to scream. But Jane had commanded that she be quiet, and now she found it impossible to utter a sound.

Spak! Spak! Spak!... Spak! Spak! Spak! ... It was all becoming white and blurry now. The blonde coach was murmuring commands to her. She couldn’t quite make them out. But her body understood. Her naked body was bending and turning as the blonde woman wished, allowing her to spank Jillian in places she couldn’t reach before. She needed only to utter a command and Jillian would present all her most tender parts for this woman to punish.

Spak! Spak! Spak! Spak! Spak! Spak! ...

Now Jillian was on her back, her head propped up by a pillow, tears rolling down her cheeks as Miss Jane continued spanking her. Spak! Spak! Spak! She slapped the fronts of Jillian’s thighs while studying her face with curiosity. Spak! Spak! Spak! She bent Jillian’s left leg and spanked the inside of the young teacher’s thigh. Spak! Spak! Spak! Her cold eyes gazed indifferently, piercing through the beautiful teacher like she was nothing. Spak! Spak! Spak! ... Spak! Spak! Spak! ...

Later, Rayne led Sharon back to the main room. The beautiful nude redhead still had the pacifier in her mouth; her head was turned, expectantly, towards the dark athlete; she literally could not look away. Her pose resembled an innocent child being escorted by a parent or guardian.

Rayne guided her over to the wall where the rest of the squad were lined up, naked. She positioned Sharon with her back to the wall and left her there; Sharon watched anxiously after Rayne for a moment, then slowly bowed her head in submission. The postures of the rest of the squad were those of cowed, defeated young women. The beautiful line of girls were silent, and for good reason, since each girl had an adult pacifier in her mouth.

One of the teammates, a short, cheerful athlete with frosty-blonde hair, carried a camera over to the line. “Listen up, Rocketeers, we’re going to take some snapshots. Stand up straight, arch your backs and look this way please.” She shot the lineup of girls from several angles, documenting their nakedness and the pacifiers in their mouths.

“Alright, girls, turn around and face the wall,” said the photographer. When the naked girls turned, the effects of spanking could be seen in varying degrees of blush on their naked behinds. “Marvelous!” said the photographer, who took many snapshots documenting the evidence of punishment. “Thank you, ladies, now face front again.”

Another teammate passed down the line of naked girls collecting the pacifiers in a plastic bag. “Don’t fret, girls,” she assured them. “We’re going to have these washed and returned to you for taking home.”

The photographer dragged a cardboard box to the center of the floor. It was filled with the Rocketeers’ pom poms. “Take your pom-poms, girls,” she said. “Now arrange yourselves in a nice team pose. I want one of you to do a split in the front, and the rest of you kneeling and standing around her... Wave your pom-poms! Smile!” The beautiful naked students obediently arranged themselves in different poses and combinations as the camera girl happily took pictures. No doubt these photos would be collected as humiliating trophies by the Tomahawks.

Just as the photographer was collecting the pom-poms, Coach Jane Faye entered the room. The blonde instructor was escorting a stunningly-beautiful naked brunette at her side. The large-breasted woman appeared to be very confused and disoriented. She directed all her attention to Coach Faye with obvious devotion.

Sharon was shocked to recognize that the naked woman was Miss Gallagher.

Coach Faye cupped one of the teacher’s large breasts in her hand. “Look at these tits, girls. I should think it is a criminal offense to employ a nubile bimbo like this as a teacher!” The naked educator had no response to this insult.

The photographer offered to take pictures, and the coach posed for several, holding Miss Gallagher by the hair and pulling back her head, like a hunter displaying her catch. “I must confess I got a little carried away with her,” said the Coach. “We may have no choice but to send this wench straight to the human petting zoo.”

The coach escorted the naked brunette over to the line of girls and left her standing next to Sharon.

The photographer dragged out another cardboard box. Piled on top was a heap of black frilly garments. “Ok, girls, each of you take one and put it on.” The line of naked females took turns picking from the box and donning what turned out to be sheer babydoll nighties. Arlene held hers at arms length to examine, a troubled expression on her face. It took prodding from the photographer before she reluctantly slipped the seductive neglige on. Then the photographer took more snapshots of the line of women in the flirtatious sleepwear.

The coach reached into the same box and collected a handful of cloth bags. “To show our appreciation for another incredible victory,” she said to the assembled team, “the school would like you to accept these gift bags. You’ll find several useful items inside that will make the rest of your evening more amusing.” She handed out the bags to the teammates.

Gift bags in hand, the team began wandering over to the line of cheerleaders in babydoll nighties. As each team member approached the line, it was obvious which of the beautiful girls they’d personally handled, for that girl would become alert with her head turned attentively towards her conqueror. The teammate would grasp the girl’s upper arm and lead her over to the photographer to pose for a couples portrait. Invariably, to the amusement of all, the cheerleader’s gaze would remain fixed upon her owner, and she would have to be redirected towards the camera. After getting their picture taken, the athlete took her chosen girl to the exit; the terrified girl of course had no choice but to go along.

Near the end, Coach Faye came over to collect Miss Gallagher. The frightened teacher went with the coach over to the photographer for a couples portrait. After a conventional couples portrait, the muscular blonde picked her up and held the beautiful teacher cradled in her arms. Laughing, the photographer snapped some choice shots, after which the soccer coach exited the room, still carrying her beautiful prize.

Of the line of girls from the cheerleading squad, only Arlene and Sharon remained. Rayne offered to handle the camera while the photographer posed with Arlene. The cheerful blonde athlete led Arlene over for posing. The tall, voluptuous brunette betrayed a resentful attitude as she was paraded through these indignities, though she was obviously cowed into obedience by the regression spanking she’d received earlier. When they were finished, the photographer casually slapped Arlene in the face and instructed the stunned girl to kneel. Arlene did so quickly.

Rayne took Sharon’s hand and pulled the apprehensive redhead over to the wall for their couples shot. She peered fearfully at the camera while the tanned athlete stood beside her, one hand resting on Sharon’s bottom.

The photographer escorted Arlene out. Rayne guided Sharon to the hallway and locked up. “This way, dear,” she said, taking Sharon by the arm and leading her down the hall to the dorms.

“This is my suite,” she said, a short walk later. She unlocked the door and motioned for Sharon to enter. Inside, she latched the door and turned to the beautiful redhead. Sharon looked around the apartment, which was expensively appointed and had been kept tidy and clean.

“Take off the nightgown, please,” said Rayne.

Sharon fumbled with the ties and slipped out of the gown. She folded it and placed it on the counter. She now stood completely nude before the formidable team captain.

“You have a question, don’t you, dear,” Rayne said in a kindly tone. “You are permitted to speak.”

“What are you going to do with me now?” Sharon asked softly.

“I’m going to fuck you, of course!” replied Rayne.

She put a finger to Sharon’s lips to discouraged her from any further utterances, and pushed the frightened redhead into the bedroom. She laid the voluptuous cheerleader face up on the bed. She left her there, and returned in a moment with the gift bag and a damp washcloth in a bowl, which she placed on the sidetable. She dimmed the overhead lights and knelt on the bed next to Sharon. She studied the beautiful young woman’s face, and casually stroked the redhead’s stomach. She leaned down to kiss the young cheerleader on the mouth.

Rayne stood. In the twilight of the bedroom, she slowly performed a sensuous striptease before her beautiful captive, unveiling the muscular contours of her athletic body. The tanned student took a leather harness from the gift bag and strapped it to her hips. It had a dildo attached to it, and the rubber appendage hung between her legs, as if she were an aroused male stud. She opened a jar of petroleum jelly and polished the dildo until it was glossy with the oil.

The young cheerleader stared apprehensively at the enormous shaft that was about to be thrust into her. She retreated to the far side of the bed and waited, her back against the wall, her tits rising and falling with her breath.

Rayne knelt on the bed and crawled over to fetch the reluctant girl.

The next morning, Sharon stood naked in the shower stall. Dressed in silk panties and bra that showed off her muscular body, Rayne stood outside the stall, spraying down the voluptuous redhead with the shower hose.

Rayne unfolded a white towel and held it up. “Come here, babykins,” she said sweetly. Sharon stepped onto the bath mat and the muscular girl wrapped the towel around her and dried off the redhead’s nubile young body.

She inspected the naked cheerleader, whose body had sustained a number of bruises and scratches during the night’s lovemaking. “I’m afraid that in my enthusiasm, I marked you up a bit,” said Rayne. “There are body cosmetics in the drawer, dear. Use them to tidy yourself up, please.” She released Sharon and gave her behind a friendly slap. The abashed young cheerleader took a seat at the vanity table and found the cosmetics. She studiously applied a concealer and a foundation to her breasts, legs and arms, occasionally glancing up self-consciously at the watching athlete.

Shortly after, there was a knock on the door. Rayne answered it, and returned carrying a plastic bag. She pointed to a padded bench. “Perch yourself and kneel attentively,” she said. “Rayne is going to give you some commands now.”

Sharon quickly mounted the bench and knelt, legs spread, with her palms on her thighs and her face uplifted. Rayne sat down next to her with the plastic bag. “Baby, this is your pacifier. When you leave here I’m going to give it to you. I want you to hide it and keep it safe. Every night when you are alone, I want you to put it to your mouth and draw on it for five minutes. This will remind you how much you are in love with me. I will feel it right here when you suck on it.” Rayne touched her nipple. “When you are done, wash and dry it gently and put it back in the bag.”

“Yes, m’am,” whispered Sharon.

“Are you going to let anyone else have sex with you?” asked Rayne.

“No, m’am,” said Sharon in a tiny voice.

“No, of course you won’t.” Rayne reached between Sharon’s legs and cupped the cheerleader’s pudendum in her hand. “This belongs to me. You must always remember that.”

“Yes, m’am,” Sharon replied breathlessly.

“When you go home, you will think about three things only. Being a good cheerleader. Getting straight A’s in school. Those are two of the things. The third is being in love with me. Every day you will set aside one full hour for thinking about how much you are secretly in love with me.”

“Yes, m’am.”

“You will wait until I send for you. While you’re waiting you will be very, very good. You won’t smoke cigarettes. You won’t drink alcohol. You will never gossip or use foul language. You’ll exercise every day. You’ll keep your body, my property, beautiful and healthy. You’ll never think negative thoughts. When I send for you, you will come immediately, but you’ll do so quietly and secretly, so nobody will notice you’re gone.”

“Yes, m’am,” whispered Sharon.

Rayne began pinching Sharon’s nipples. “I also want you to convey a message to your beautiful friend Meghan Blake, when she gets out of the hospital. Tell her that Rayne Belladona wishes to see her.”

“If you please, m’am” said Sharon, “Meghan is terrified of you. She’ll never agree to do it.”

“On the contrary, that’s why she will be afraid not to. Please tell her to present herself to me in that pretty bikini she wore for the cover photos. I plan on undressing her and spanking her. And perhaps I will give her a pacifier to enjoy.”

“Yes, m’am,” whispered Sharon.

“Pretty baby, I’m going to dress you now. I’ve got a lovely white outfit for you. If anyone asks you’ll say you bought it in a Montpelier store; but you and I will know that it’s a slave garment, and it symbolizes that you are owned.”

“Yes, m’am.”

She clutched a fistfull of Sharon’s hair, pulled the buxom cheerleader into the bedroom and tossed her onto the bed. The athlete retrieved the white garment from the dresser drawer and turned to face the naked redhead. Sharon suddenly realized that she would be obliged to wear the white dress with no undergarments beneath.

A short time later, Sharon approached the Rocketeers’ minivan, where the rest of the squad had congregated. Like herself, they were all clothed in white dresses with extremely short skirts. “What a lovely outfit!” she said to one of the cheerleaders. “Oh yes,” the girl replied. “I found it in a darling shop in Montpelier.”

All of the girls were a little worse for wear from their experiences the night before. Sharon noticed that Arlene was sporting a black eye. “Oh dear, what happened to you?” she asked.

“It’s nothing, I ran into a door,” replied the beautiful cheerleader, whose rough handling was evident under the foundation and concealer she’d applied to her arms and long legs.

Just then, Coach Faye stepped out of a faculty building and approached the group, signaling for their attention. “Girls, I just wanted to inform you that your faculty advisor Miss Gallagher has handed in her resignation and will no longer be teaching at Colchester Academy. She is pursuing new opportunities under my personal guidance. Perhaps you’ll run into her one of these days and she can tell you about it. In the meantime, I’m to give you the keys to the van.”

She offered up the keys. “I’ll drive,” volunteered Sharon. The coach bade farewell to the squad, leisurely hugging and kissing each of the girls in turn. When she’d finally released the last of the girls, the flustered young cheerleaders filed into the minivan and Sharon got behind the wheel.

As she drove away, Sharon’s mind was filled with memories of Jillian Gallagher. She hoped that some day she could visit the human petting zoo. She would like the chance to pet and hug the voluptuous Miss Gallagher and perhaps even give the young teacher a milking.

But then she remembered that she was owned by Rayne Belladona, and must put aside her longings for the raven-haired faculty advisor.