An Odd Day for Jasmine

WARNING: The following is a work of erotic fan fiction, the events of which are completely fictional and did not happen. This material is not suitable for viewing by those under the legal age limit for viewing pornographic material in their country of residence.

Starring: Jasmine Paolini, Coco Gauff

Other characters: Aryna Sabalenka, Paula Badosa, Iga Swiatek, Elena Rybakina, Victoria Azarenka, Madison Keys, Jessica Pegula, Emma Navarro, Barbora Krejcikova, Mirra Andreeva, Elina Svitolina, Ons Jabeur.

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Stuttgart, April 2025

Queen of clay, bitch! Jasmine Paolini, world No. 6 straight from beautiful Tuscany, Italy, has just accomplished yet another success of her career. Nothing the little girl from Florida could do against the pace and quality of her shots. Coco Gauff, twenty-one years old, a predestined career, is perhaps still too young and tactically faltering to beat her, especially on this surface. Sure, Coco is tall, muscular, much more powerful than she is, barely reaching 5'5". But she is smarter, more experienced, and even today she took her to school. Jasmine explodes with joy as she leaves center court, accompanied by a roar of applause and congratulations, while her opponent is already in the locker room after leaving the court with her head down. The season is definitely off to a good start. Not least because there is an additional silver lining that will come from this victory.

Jasmine has understood something vitally important a few months ago. She figured it out in a locker room at who knows what North American tournament. And she figured it out because of one person: Paulita Badosa. Oh, the crazy shakes she felt on a visceral level that day, seeing the Spaniard, beautiful as a model, soaping her hair in the shower, completely naked. Seeing her walk by, Paula had even smiled at her. Needless to say how many different ways she masturbated that very night, in the hotel room. She had never thought of herself as a lesbian. Of course, she had always been curious. She had never hidden a kind of attraction to females. But masturbating with such eagerness? If she could have, she would have shoved her fingers up to her stomach. She had a momentous orgasm, afterward lying on the bed as if after a three-hour match. Just a step away from falling asleep, she masturbated again with renewed urge, her thick curly hair covering her eyes and face, her arousing half-Italian, half-Polish, half-Ghanaian body twisting as if pierced by a sword, and something she had never experienced before happened to her: she pissed herself from spasms. Her bladder had not withstood the sexual outburst. Embarrassed, she took the sheets and washed them spic and span in the sink, then returned to the bed and fell asleep like that, naked and happy. The next morning the bitter surprise: she had forgotten to set the alarm clock, and the coach was knocking on the door of her room. Jasmine woke up suddenly, with her right hand still resting gently on her sticky vagina; she hurriedly dressed herself and rushed off to practice. Of the sheets she heard nothing more.

At first it was not easy to accept. She had boyfriends in the past, fucked them with fair satisfaction. But such horniness was something totally new. She thought back to her encounters in the women's locker room and now, as if freed from a yoke of restraints, she saw them again in a different light. In the evenings she masturbated again and again, without even the need for porn: it was enough for her to think back to Paulita. Sometimes she opted for a beautiful Russian with firm tits, or a toned and athletic American. She had overwhelming orgasms that would put her to sleep in no time. Yeah, she was definitely a lesbian.

Luckily for her, many girls on the WTA circuit were, so to speak, open to every possibility. Crazy stories of post-match shagging, big orgies, surreptitious hangouts in fancy hotel rooms circulated among them. Jasmine, however, was shy, damn shy, and lacked the courage to ask. At 28, after a minor career, she had just reached the heights of success, and she still felt like a newcomer. Mainly because the world of the tops was a fierce one, chock-full of rivalries, personal hatreds, and malice. The whole locker room knew of the mutual contempt that existed between Aryna Sabalenka, the Belarusian goddess, world No. 1, and Iga Swiatek, the Polish smart-ass, so different in everything. Lena Rybakina, with her Russian icy coolness, did not get along with either of them; and for Coco, the big American girl, young and strong, things were even worse. A world of she-wolves ready to bite each other's throats.

Things had completely changed a month earlier, during the Miami tournament. In hot Florida, during a day of competition, a strange summons had reached Jasmine.

"Hey Jasmine, this is Aryna. your presence is requested at 5 p.m. in the main hall for a WTA inner circle meeting. We have decided to include you given your recent and consistent successes. Bye!"

Jasmine closed Whatsapp and stood petrified. She had been summoned! The top players on the circuit finally deemed her worthy! The inner circle meetings had an almost legendary status among WTA girls. They all knew the pivotal role it played in the life of every female player. Prize money, codes of conduct, sponsors, assignments of all kinds were decided there. And now she was part of it! Enthusiastic, she spent the afternoon practice waiting for 5 p.m. At 4 p.m., she took a shower and prepared herself fully for the meeting. She arrived at the hall well in advance.

"Please Jas, come in." Aryna Sabalenka, in formal dress, welcomed her inside the hall. "Thank you for coming."

"It's a pleasure, Aryna, thank you for the invitation," Jasmine replied enthusiastically.

"You deserved a formal invitation to this gala, your achievements speak for you," Aryna smiled at her. "Today is a milestone day. We need to resolve important issues, and we may have found a common solution. But it will have to have general approval: that's why we invited some girls who usually... don't deal with these things. For example... you."

Jasmine was surprised for a moment, then Aryna's words settled and a tinge of disappointment hit her. She was still not a top. Her invitation was a necessary but exceptional circumstance. "I thank you for thinking of me, by the way," Jasmine added. Aryna smiled at her with a wink and then headed toward the center of the room.

"A goddess and a bitch at the same time." thought Jas. Aryna had this innate ability to come across as sexy and seductive but at the same time released around her an aura of dominance and control. Jasmine felt her pussy get wet at her mere presence. The thought of touching herself that very evening softened her thoughts and she headed to her seat.

Within about ten minutes, the room was filled with players. Jasmine looked around all excited: all the world's top players were there, bar none. Watching them, she was able to sense who was on the board and who, like her, had been called just for that special occasion. The first group included the three Americans: Jessica Pegula, Coco Gauff and Madison Keys, accompanied by a decidedly more uncomfortable Emma Navarro. Then there was Lena Rybakina, statuesque in her nice dress, along with the very young Mirra Andreeva. There was Qinwen Zheng, as tall as Lena, stunning Oriental beauty. And then (and here Jasmine's heart lost a beat) there was Paula, stunning as usual, a hottie in every way. Jas sought her gaze, got it, and turned red as a tomato. Finally, some matrons of the circuit, now further back in the rankings but with established status: Elina Svitolina, Barbora Krejcikova, Ons Jabeur, and Victoria Azarenka. Last to enter the room was the current world No. 2, Iga Swiatek. She walked past Aryna without greeting her, causing the Belarusian to grimace in annoyance. Fifteen in total, the best in the world. Who knows what they had to discuss that was so important.

"Thank you all for being here," Aryna exclaimed. "We're going to keep this short. As many of you know, our board has recently been disrupted by tensions of various kinds."

All the players looked around alarmed. Aryna had got straight to the point, without trying to sugarcoat it.

"Our decision-making mechanism has now been stuck for months. As world No. 1 and president of the board, I have the responsibility to take charge of the situation and propose a solution." The catchphrase procured spontaneous applause from the rest of the board.

"I firmly believe that to change things, we have to change attitudes. We are a circuit of strong women, perhaps sometimes far too strong. Stubborn as we are, we don't come to the right decisions. What we need is a mechanism to break these attitudes and make a part of us more... docile."

The audience fell silent. Jasmine was surprised by Aryna's words and did not understand what the Belarusian was aiming at.

"Paula will explain our proposal," Aryna concluded.

Badosa got up from her chair and reached the box. She cleared her throat behind the microphone, looked up proudly as she looked her colleagues directly in the eyes, and began, "Our proposal reads as follows: - From the Stuttgart tournament in April, starting with the quarterfinals of each tournament of category 500 or higher, in addition to round passage and prize money, a second reward will be guaranteed to the winner of each match. The defeated girl will be... submitted to the will of the winner until the start of the new tournament. She will refer to the winner of the match with the words "Mistress," and in turn will be called "Bitch". During that time, he will lose the ability to vote within our meetings, and give it to his temporary mistress. To strengthen the mechanism and guarantee absolute obedience, at the end of each match, after the showers, defeat will come...." Paula leaves a moment laden with anticipation. "... fucked in both her holes directly in the locker room. If anyone resists punishment, the entire board will take severe action."

Paula concluded her reading and the room erupted in bewilderment. A "fuck off" was distinctly heard coming from the Iga area, the Americans looked at each other in disbelief. Jasmine herself was almost left petrified. Had she really heard those words? "Fucked in both holes"??? Some of the girls in the room, however, did not seem so astonished. Lena had remained impassive; the veterans even nodded. Aryna meanwhile was struggling to regain control of the hall: "Girls, girls! GIRLS!" she shouted like a madman. "Quiet! This is our proposal, and on this proposal we will vote right now. The vote is free. Those who disagree will vote against it. But the majority will decide, as we have always done. To those who feel scandalized, I want to remind them of one thing: We may not all be whores, but none of us is a saint. What goes on in hotel rooms is all too well known. So don't be moralists just now."

The girls quieted down; only a few murmurs remained. The proposal, as shocking as it was scandalous, left many of them incredulous at even how bold it had been to put it on the table. It could not be accepted, they repeated to themselves. Iga, in particular, was particularly furious.

"Now let's vote. I will call one person each who will cast their vote aloud. Say 'YES' if you approve the proposal, 'NO' if you disapprove. I'll start: 'YES'."

Jasmine looked around once again. What was she to do? There had been very little time to think: Aryna had been very clever. A no would deny her sympathies. A yes would give her incredible possibilities, but also that of suffering enormous humiliation.

"Paula," said Aryna. "YES," replied the Spaniard.

"Iga," said Aryna. "Hell NO," replied the Polish.

The procedure continued quickly. In the general bewilderment, the endorsements were many: a victory by a few votes was in sight. Azarenka, Svitolina and Jabeur voted in favor; the group of Americans voted compactly against. Rybakina sided with Aryna, while Barbora Krejcikova voted no. The result was six even, with three votes still to be cast. Zheng, demure as all Chinese women are, voted disdainfully against. Mirra Andreeva, however, perhaps out of youthful enthusiasm, voted in favor. Seven tied. All decided by one vote. Jasmine's. The Italian looked around. The gazes of the fourteen strongest players in the world were fixed on her. She felt small, inadequate, out of place. Her vote was decisive, and all of them would remember only that. She looked at Iga, then at Aryna. Their looks needed no words. Then her gaze brushed past Paula, and her imagination took flight. He saw himself on the court against her, in a semifinal of a major tournament. Winning or losing no longer mattered. Fuck or get fucked, same thing. He whispered a "YES." Aryna smiled. The session was off.

His mind swirls in these memories as he leaves the center court in Stuttgart. Thank God she had voted yes. "I just beat Coco and now I'm going to fuck her!" she thinks in a whirlwind of excitement. Jas can already feel her pussy getting slightly wet as she foreshadows the scene. She can't help but touch herself as she returns the locker room, pretending to rearrange her panties as she walks past the tournament staff. Ever since she had admitted to herself that she was a lesbian, that is, ever since she had seen Paula in the shower, she had become best friends with her vagina. Before, with men, this did not happen, and now, months later, she does not miss cock at all. But after all this do-it-yourself, she now has her extraordinary reward. Jasmine enters the women's locker room and sees that Coco is already in the shower. The view is marvelous. The American's body, black as ebony, is translucent under the flowing hot water and the ceiling lights. Her breasts are toned, with large nipples, her belly flat, her arms and shoulders slightly muscular, her ass marble, her pussy juicy, perfectly shaved, with a small strip of black hair just above, shaped as classy women do. Jasmine feels faint. Coco doesn't look her in the eye, she doesn't dare. The Italian-Ghanaian then undresses, still drenched in sweat after the battle in the sun, she too remains naked and joins Coco at the showers.

The two girls wash next to each other, without making eye contact. Jasmine returns to the locker room, still naked, and pulls out of her bag a massive strap-on. It is a special strap-on, purchased especially for the occasion: it has in addition a thin wire with a small vibrating metal rod at the end. As she fucks Coco with a fake cock, she wants to enjoy it too. Her fingers run along the lips of her completely soaked vagina, gather some moisture with which to lubricate the object, and then she thrusts it in with a little moan of enjoyment. Then he clips the strap to her waist and finally looks up at Coco.

"Good match out there. You played very well, but it wasn't enough. Now I'd like to collect my prize. Suck it up," Jas imposes, smiling genuinely.

But Coco doesn't move. Still naked and wet, the American stares at Jasmine with a fiery gaze.

"Coco, please suck this fake cock. Lubricate it well, it will be easier later."

"I won't," Coco replies.

"Excuse me? I know it's hard honey, but these are the rules. We took a ballot. I have to fuck you."

"No, you don't. I didn't vote for a damn thing in Miami. Don't get tough on me, shortie. I don't let a little slut like you, five feet tall and weighing fifty pounds, stick a cock in me."

"Fuck you, Coco. You know what the rules are. I beat you fairly out there."

"I don't give a shit about the rules and that bitch board." Suddenly, Coco slaps Jasmine across the face. "You know what? Maybe I'll fuck you right now." Jasmine shoves her, but Coco grabs her by the shoulders, taking advantage of the huge disparity in physical strength, and puts a hand to her throat. Jasmine feels tears streaming down her face. Why is she doing this? It is so unfair. She tries to fight back, but it is all in vain. "How do you have to call me now, bitch?" "Fuck you Coco," gasps Jasmine, but at the tightening of her grip she must soon capitulate: "Mistress. Sorry, mistress." "Good girl. How would you like to be fucked by me?" "Whatever you say, Mistress." "Even in the ass? Would you like me to put this nice fake cock you brought with you up your ass?" "Yes Mistress, I would like that," Jasmine replies, still crying. The situation had collapsed in seconds. Jasmine hated herself for her inability to resist and for the humiliation she was accepting. A few minutes ago she was as happy as she had ever been, now she could feel the world collapsing on her. "Great, then let's get on with it," Coco raged, ripping the metal rod from her pussy and undoing her strap-on.

"On your knees, bitch."

Jasmine slowly bends down, shaking like a leaf. Coco finally puts on the strap-on and slams it repeatedly into her face. "What did you say before? Lubricate it well, it will hurt less later. Suck it, slut."

Jasmine slowly uncloses her plump lips, showing her white teeth. Her freckled face, darker than the typical Italian's because of her African ancestry, glistens from flowing tears. The problem, however, is another. She notices that her pussy is dripping on the floor. When he masturbated fiercely thinking about Paula, the image he always had in his mind was of her inside the Spaniard. Now she was realizing, in the worst way, how horny it was for her to be dominated. The blatant unfairness of the situation made her feel like a victim. She felt on the verge of orgasm without even being touched. Coco would soon realize this and it would add to her humiliation. Meanwhile, however, the cock had entered her mouth and she is forced to suck it. "Back and forth, back and forth, slut. Suck it good or I swear to God I'll bugger you dry," Coco threatens her. Jas sucks with intensity, looking up to her powerful opponent, naked and glistening. "Stop it and open your mouth," Coco says, and spits directly into her mouth. "Resume." Jasmine sucks for a good five minutes, increasing her arousal under the American's mean stare. Her face, red with embarrassment, is covered with her and Coco's saliva. Finally the punishment ends and the strap-on comes out of her mouth.

"Damn girl, did you leave the faucet open?" Jas looks down and sees a lake of moisture underneath her. "Do you like sucking my cock? I thought you were a little angel but you're a real whore. I'll do you the favor of making you cum. On your knees and elbows now." Jasmine gets on all fours and feels Coco clutching the mass of her hair. "Follow me." Jasmine feels her hair being pulled and is forced to follow her mistress like a dog, moving forward laboriously. Coco gives her a tour of the locker room and then finally stops her.

"Yep, you drool like a snail. Congratulations. Now I'm going to fuck you." Jasmine feels Coco kneel behind her and finally her fingers meet her pussy. It is the first time female fingers (not hers) have touched her down there. Jas cries, cries desperately from a mix of emotions she is completely unable to handle: joy, anger, humiliation, sexual pleasure, hatred, arousement. Her private parts are completely exposed to her opponent's long black fingers, she feels infinitely vulnerable, yet infinitely aroused. Coco explores her expertly, her fingers getting sticky. Jasmine feels the heat of her fingertips and the sharp cold of her nails tactfully studying her, until Coco suddenly thrusts her cock inside her. The shock is enormous and Jasmine screams with rage and pleasure. Coco fucks her hard, pounding her pussy for several consecutive minutes without letting her breathe. "GOOOD JAS, VERY GOOD. YOU LIKE THAT, DON'T YOU? You came in here thinking you were going to fuck me and instead here you are, naked on all fours, with twenty inches of cock well inside you." As he fucks her, Coco spanks her with an open hand on both buttocks, leaving red marks and making her scream even more.