The Spaning Team

The Spanking Team

Set in a version of "the real world," Aimee and her roommate want to join the FoxTails Girl's College Spanking Team--a 'club' they've only heard rumors about!

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Aimee looked out of the windows of the school bus. She wore bright red high cut micro-mini shorts and an orange t-shirt with the FoxTails seal on it. She sat in the back with 8 other girls--including Tanya, an overweight girl who wasn't a FoxTails student but was from a nearby young women's correctional facility who'd been loaned to the FoxTail's Spanking Team.

Across from her, in silence, sat Candace, Aimee's friend, who was also a FoxTail's team applicant. To join the private but prodigious Spanking Team, the process was straightforward: Apply to the Faculty Sponsor, get "adopted" by a "Big Sister" on the team, and then you would have to attend all the Spanking Team "meets" for the year. That last part would prove the hardest.

Aimee's heart was in her throat. She had been dressed out by Cassi, her Big Sister on the team or just her 'Big,' in the shorts and t-shirt and her ankle socks and sneakers. Now she rode in silence with the rest of the --ees. That was, as in, "Spankees." The SpankERS were up front, laughing and talking. They were dressed like cheerleaders (the girls) plus three tall, handsome boys from the FoxTrot University (the boys school).

They were in high spirits, unlike the -ees in the back who were squirming uncomfortably in wretched silence. One girl, a pale red-head had already broken the no-talking rule, and wore a dog's muzzle fastened onto her head with a muffle stuffed in her mouth so she both looked ridiculous and could only make soft plaintive noises. It was just after dark and the lights were on. Aimee's stomach did a flip as the bus smoothly moved to an exit ramp and down, back into "civilization" again.

The venue was a high school gym. She could see the dark shapes of the otherwise closed school buildings. It wasn't a ritzy area--even though FoxTails (and presumably, the other school they were competing against) was fairly exclusive. There was already one bus stopped in front of the two-story, looming gymnasium and Aimee could see several women--older than the college girls--in what looked to her like actual uniforms with jackets in pale pink and with insignia and actual epaulettes with understated filigree.

The bus's brakes hissed to a stop and the on-board faculty member, the stern (if young, and pretty) Ms. Anderson, stood and clapped once for attention.

"--ers will exit the bus and move to the ready area. Ees will stand in a line, place your hands on the hips of the girl before you and wait to be called forward. There will be no talking and no disruption. You--" she addressed the spankees, "are all under punishment, and silence and contrition is expected. Tears will come later, I assure you. Now! Stand and assemble into your queue!"

The last was with a snap, and Aimee slid out of her seat and stood. Candace was in front of her and Aimee placed her hands on her friend's hips. Someone behind her was whimpering softly, but she didn't dare turn her head."

Candace, like Aimee, wasn't exactly "sentenced" to the Intramural Spanking Team: both of them had applied to become '--ers.' It turned out that in addition to getting a 'Big'--a 'Big Sister' who was already on the team, you also had to attend a year of "meets." This would be the first one, and they were both dreading it.

Of course life under her 'Big' hadn't been comfortable either. Candace was constantly walking saddle-legged as her Big, their Residential Assistant, Carly, had decided that her ;Little,' Candace, would benefit from receiving enemas on a weekly basis as a 'maintenance' punishment, and had administered several with unusual fluids that had Candace feeling an oozing discomfort back there.

The 'ers' had exited in high spirits and now, Ms. Anderson ordered the 'ees' forward, with a stern snap of her fingers. The spankees shuffled forwards and stepped down out of the bus, their hands on the hips of the girls ahead of them. Off the bus, the air was slightly brisk, and they could hear the sounds of city streets around them. One of the uniformed women took the first girl and directed her to follow.

The queue moved after her, somberly walking into the school and down the empty halls. The door to the gym was open with a WELCOME FOXTAILS sign posted. They filed in and moved into the directed locker-room.

Inside were three of the FoxTails Spankers, including Carly and Cassi, and three of the older uniformed women.

"Spankees," said Cassi, standing on a wooden bench. "Come in and take seats where you're directed. I'll explain everything. Move it--move it," she said, waving them in. Aimee and Candace turned to face the girls who were grinning with anticipation.

"Sit!" she ordered. They sat. "When I order you to disrobe, you will remove your shorts and panties--they will come straight off and will go into the brown paper bags in front of you. You will then sit. I want all of you to hold hands with the girl next to you!"

The girls reached out and took each other's hands.

"Carly is handing out leg-warmers. Once you are bare-bottomed, you will put them on. We have them in FoxTail's colors and in addition to keeping your legs warmed, you'll be showing off your school spirit. It's our spankees look!"

The girls squirmed listening to her as Carly came by placing two leg warmers next to each paper bag.

"Okay! Disrobe! Dress out!" Cassi commanded.

Now there were little sounds--soft moans, whimpers--sniffles. Carly squirmed as her shorts and panties came down. She toed her sneakers off and removed them, putting them into the bag. She moved quickly, not wanting to be last, but also in a hurry to obey before the torment of her dignity paralyzed her! The red head was sobbing softly into her muzzle, as Carly stood behind her, unbuckling it.

She pulled the leg-warmers on--they came up her bare legs to the knees--and they were thick. The t-shirt stopped before her hips, ensuring that her region was bare. All the girls had been thoroughly waxed and she felt intensely nude and vulnerable.

Her emotions had been building and fraying since last night, and it had gotten worse during the endless ride here. Resentment, anxiety, and embarrassment created a miserable stew in her stomach that seemed desperate to come out as sobbing cries. It took one look at the whimpering red-haired girl to know that a crying spankee would get extra attention--and not the comforting kind!

Cassi stepped back up. "Anyone still working on it will get a little extra!" she grinned--this was FUN for her. Aimee's face flushed with anger and humiliation!

"Okay, girls, here are the rules. You will form up and follow the leader--Carly--out onto the floor. You will form up in a row of four and five, about three feet apart. You will stand with your legs shoulder length apart, hands behind your back, head up, tits out. The judges will be at a table in front and our other team, the Tamer Finishing Academy girls, will be to your left."

"We'll begin with some warm-up easy exercises and stretches. You will be graded on these--the Judges and our own proctors are playing attention. If you aren't participating and giving it your best effort and we think so, you'll get the disgrace punishment--which you don't want. I'll go into that in a moment!"

She smiled brightly! She was enjoying this. The bare bottomed spankees shifted uncomfortably on the wooden benches.

"As for the spanking itself, it'll work like this: you'll be put into a line for the FoxTails and the Tamer Spankees will be put into a line as well, next to you. When the buzzer goes off, the first girl in each line will hustle to the designated areas on the floor with two colored circles. You put one foot in each circle about double shoulder length. Hands on your head. Now, after the first round, you'll be sore--you might even be crying--but you will get on that line, in the ready stance!"

"The Judges will call out an implement, and a location--and possibly a position. There will be a set of elements for you to straddle or bend over or otherwise put yourself on. You will HUSTLE to the indicated location and get in position. It might be as simple as "The Lunge Position" or over a Spanker's lap--but whatever it is, you will move and get there. Being the last girl in position is points off!"

"Once you're in position, the spanking will commence. Now, you all deserve this--it's guaranteed to be unpleasant, but you are expected to take your punishment! Even if you're sore--even if you're sobbing--you are expected to get in position. There will be helper girls standing by and if you need help, it's a few points off--but not too bad. We expect this to be hard for you--but if you are defiant? That's a lot of points off--or even a trip to the disgrace box!"

"So we aren't going to be defiant, are we girls?"

She waited in the silence.

"No, Miss," Aimee said, in an embarrassingly squeak voice. The other spankees similarly intoned.

She nodded. "When you are spanked, you will go to the back of the line where helper-girls may administer some assistance--but, again, it's expected to hurt: it's punishment!" Her bright smile made Aimee wince. Ohh--she was decidedly enjoying this.

"When you are being chastised--spanked--you will be marked off for faulting. The Spanker may get points off for technique--including hitting too hard--but that's not YOUR call to make! But for YOU, screaming too loudly, breaking position, and especially covering up or, even worse, getting out of the spanking or fighting, will be a serious fault. That's a lot of points off for the team and, if it's bad enough, you go to--you guessed it--the disgrace box!"

"So your job--and you are representing FoxTails, even as bad little girls, we expect school spirit and deportment out of you. This is going to be humiliating, uncomfortable, painful, and over all, highly unpleasant: it's punishment and you all deserve it! But, I expect you to do your part for FoxTails--and tonight that means being disciplined with a moderate amount of school pride and school spirit!"

"We're going to show that our bad little girls are better than the Tamer bad little girls! Aren't we?"

Now Aimee managed a stronger "Yes Miss!"

"Good brown-nosing, Spankee," Cassi said--and Aimee shut her mouth, blushing badly. "Some of you may get a chance to learn why it's called 'brown nosing'! There's two more things you need to be aware of: whichever team wins the match, based on the judge's score, they get to punish the losing team--it's pretty bad and I don't want to be naked over a Tamer girl's lap! Since we have some... after-meet authority over your punishments, I want you all to understand that YOU don't want that either!"

"I also want to explain the disgrace box." She came forward and sat down, facing them, her cheerleader's skirt around her in contrast to their bare bottoms.

"Both schools have one--and they're all a bit different--but FoxTails' is the envy of the entire circuit. If you're defiant or in the judge's opinion faulting to try to sink the school, you'll go to the disgrace box--there you'll be bound snugly over a foam wedge and you'll meet Miss Epharam's little wonder! She was the first Spanking Team faculty sponsor and she introduced us to her Punishment Paste! Most meets go smoothly without anyone being sent to the disgrace box--but when it happens, the girl in question gets a Second Meet signed up for--and, trust me, girls: no one goes to the disgrace box twice!"

"We're going to show you a 90 second film clip of a girl in the disgrace box--the actual film lasts almost 90 minutes--but as you'll see, ninety seconds is enough for you to get the lesson."

There is a click--the lights are turned off and a rectangle of a film projector appears on the beige wall. Aimee could hear the fluttering clicks of the film running. She squirmed. A girl, in the same uniform was standing facing a fully dressed stern woman, who was clearly livid with her. The older woman took a draught and, holding the college-girl's nose poured it--forcing it down her throat. The girl flexed and coughed and gagged, bubbles around her lips and running down her chin.

"The drought paralyzes the vocal cords for an hour or so," Cassi said. "So we don't have to gag her to stop her from making noise. We mix it with a little soap for taste--or, if you swear, a lot of soap for an added lesson."

The girl was laid down over a padded pallet. Her wrists were out in front, cuffed by thick, fur-lined leather cuffs with heavy inch-long chains to nails embedded in the wood. A padded bar about 6" above the rest of the pallet ran under her hips, raising them. And her ankles were similarly cuffed by two cheerleader-dressed FoxTail girls squatting and working efficiently. The girl on the trestle looked surly and scared and furious. Her buttocks were a mess of swollen reds and bruises. It was painful to look at--but she was clearly radiating defiance.

Once affixed, one of the senior, uniformed officers stepped forward and opened a stoneware basin. She wore rubber gloves--thick--over her hands and she lowered herself by the aft of the captive girl. She said something the silent film didn't catch and then dipped fingers into the pot.

"We no longer use... " Cassi said, softly. "That much."

She came out with a thick dollop of a tan goop. From her expression on opening the container, it was clear the smell was an assault. She held the container and the goop on her fingers well away from her.

"She's wearing medical rubber gloves under the dish-washer gloves," Cassi said. "She really doesn't want it on her--even her fingers."

The woman then, took her other hand and spread the girl's cheeks, smearing the good from the crack of her ass at the top, down, thickly over her anus and then across her taint, working a good thick layer of it between her labia and into her vagina. The girl's head snapped up and she strained to look back as the woman, took another small amount from the bowl and with practiced skill did something to the top of her sex.

"She's pulling back the clitoral hood," Cassi said, her voice indicating she found this touch horrible despite herself, "to get it under the hood and over her clit."

The woman seemed to move her fingers in a small circle, rubbing it in.

"Also her urethra--her pee hole," Carly said, also appalled at this. "We don't always do that either."

"The woman replaced the lid and stepped back, holding the soiled glove out to the side where a helper-woman wearing rubber gloves herself, stripped it off and into a bag like it was toxic waste. On the trestle the girl was fighting not to cry and coughed once or twice. Then she stopped. She held still for a moment--before she started to try to slither!

She moved her pelvis back and forth frantically over the padded leather that boosted her aft up high. Her buttocks swayed and then clenched and unclenched wildly as she sought relief from the assault.

"The itch," said Cassi, "is unbearable--absolutely intolerable--and she's going to wear it for ninety minutes." The girl's lips parted--she was calling out--and then, in panic, realizing her voice was nothing but a whisper, began to thrash. The padded cuffs and wooden surfaces held her firmly and she bucked and shimmied and her sex clenched and unclenched like she was doing kegel exercises.

The audience gasped as a spurt of golden urine splashed from her sex and she thrust wildly, like she was having sex. Her head shook--NO!NO!NO! She turned to look at the camera--horror on her face, eyes huge, wet, and pleading. The movie stopped.

"She soiled herself not long after that," Cassi said. "It's not uncommon. You don't want to go to the disgrace box. The Young Woman's Polytechnic Center uses a TENS unit-like device with probes for the anus and vagina to deal out shocks--and their girls find it preferable every time to the paste."

Silence filled the room.

BZZZNNNNTTTT! A buzzer sounded.

"Two minute warning," said one of the uniformed women.

"Everybody up, ass-to-cunt, Spankees--I want to see you moving! Show those judges and the Tamer Team our school spirit!" She clapped her hands loudly! "Go! Go! Go!"

Aimee, feeling shocked by the video, felt as though she might cry--but she moved into the line, Candace right behind her. She felt her friend's bare skin against her buttocks.

"Good luck," whispered Candace in a shaky voice that indicated she might not be so far from tears either.

The door opened and the lead girl, in the FoxTail cheerleader's uniform--a Spanker--led the bare-bottomed girls out into the room between lockers and up the stairs and through the double doors into the indoor arena.

# # #

Candace moaned when she saw the room. Madonna's Hanky Panky was playing over the loudspeakers and while Candace didn't recognize it, it was clear the female singer was enthusiastic about being spanked. It was insult to injury!

On one side the bleachers were out and there were... a bunch of people in them--what looked like parents or maybe faculty members--no uniforms but older men and women with a few teenagers here and there (staring with wide eyed horror and wonder) and college girls--student government types who were clearly eager for the event!

A woman in a girl's volleyball outfit with a cap on and a whistle around her neck stood in the center and behind her a large long table with three older people--the judges--two women in their 50's and a man. They looked stern, and severe as the line wound from the door, the lead bare girl, whimpering as she sought to follow the quickly jogging lead-girl.

The lead girl pointed and indicated the line was to go there. She counted off five girls and then pointed to the last four. Candace turned and moved down, lining up behind the girl in front--then moving slightly as there were only four girls in this row.

To the group's right was a leotard-clad young woman who was assuming the feet apart, hands on her head position, back straight, chin up, tits, as Cassi had said, out. But she wasn't nude! Candace's vagina was visible between her thighs. Her labia were exposed--there was no hair--no fur--anywhere down there. The judges looked at the group over their spectacles and it was clear THEY felt the girls on the floor were all bad-girls who certainly had it coming.

The singer was saying that her "bottom hurts just thinking about it" when the door behind them opened again and the Tamer girls came out. They had green and yellow colors and the shirts had a sequined whip on the front. They looked wide-eyed and teary and they dashed out, frantically following their own lead girl who ran a similar pattern to the other side. They were slightly slower in getting into position and the girl off to the side had to manually reposition a couple of girls, landing a solid slap on their buttocks.

However, all too fast, the Tamer girls were lined up and from both doors, the -ers came dashing out. One of them even turned a cartwheel across the floor. They were smiling brilliantly and waving to the crowd. Candace could see the Foxtrot boys--three of them, in male-cheerleader uniforms--looking lean and handsome as they took position with the girls. She blushed intensely--her bottom--her entire naked ass--was visible to them. She couldn't cover it--couldn't hide it--and soon it would be spanked! She could feel the crushing embarrassment of the exposure.

Her slim body was exposed--the private parts on obscene display. Blush rose in her face, her neck, her ears, her buttocks. Her dark skin might hide a little of it--but it was still obvious: the spankees were bathed in awful humiliation. She felt like she had to pee. Before them, to either side of the judges, the spankers were assembling the disciplinary furniture that would be used to restrain or position and display the spankees.