Don't Date Them

Don and Paul, moped Cheryl, were idiots. Totally and completely. Not enough brains between them to outsmart a pea-brained goose. True, they had muscle, but so did a gorilla. Did she want to date a gorilla? No, she did not. Did she want to date Don or Paul? Same answer. But they wouldn't leave her alone and now look what's happened.

School was over for the day and Cheryl was on her way to the coach's office. So she could explain herself, according to the coach. As if it was her fault that Don and Paul got into a fight.

She knocked at the coach's door and reluctantly entered when commanded.

"Cheryl," said the coach, sounding really unhappy. "I take it you heard about the little contretemps between Don and Paul?"

"If by contretemps you mean their beating the bejesus out of each other, yes, I heard. I blame you, you know."

"Me?" exclaimed the coach, rather startled.

"Yes, you. You teach them to be competitive, to be belligerent, totally ignoring the fact that they haven't got the sense to restrain their competitiveness and belligerence to the field where it belongs. A woeful shortfall in the training of the team in my opinion."

"Really? So you're saying their fight had nothing to do with you? Nothing to do with the fact that you're dating both of them?"

"Hey, don't blame me. I don't want to date either of them. They insist. More of that belligerence you're training them in coming out in an inappropriate situation."

"And their insistence has nothing to do with the fact that you're fucking them both and playing them off against each other."

"I am not, repeat, NOT fucking both of them. I'm not fucking either of them. I'd as soon fuck a mongoose on steroids as to go to bed with one of them. Sooner. The mongoose would be smarter."

"Really? That's not what they claim."

"I don't give a shit about what they claim. I said I'm not fucking them and that's that. Whatever they may claim to the contrary is all in their empty heads. They make things up and tell each other, trying to score points. They're currently running at about minus fifty, points wise. Both of them."

"So they're fighting about you when neither of them has you? That's what you're suggesting?"

"No. They're fighting because they're idiots who like to fight. I'm just their current excuse."

"Really?" The coach's voice oozed disbelief.

"Yes, really. They're both trying to talk me into bed and paranoid that the other might succeed where they've failed. Thus the fight, a stupid effort to warn the other off. Did they hurt each other badly?" This last question was asked in a hopeful voice.

"Well, if they're both trying to get you into bed why don't you just fuck one of them and get the rivalry over with. You're disrupting the team."

"Oh. So I should give my all and fuck the team to keep them happy? Who made me your happy hooker? Why don't you hire a pro if you're that desperate to get them laid?"

"So why haven't you gone to bed with either of them if you're constantly dating them?"

"I date them because they don't give me any choice. I don't fuck them because I do have a choice. I'll admit that they're trying their damnedest to get me into bed but I find their suggestions eminently resistible."

"So you would have no objections if I ordered you not to date either of them?"

"Yes and no."

"Which is it? Yes or no?"

"Both. Yes, I would object strenuously to your trying to tell me who I can or can't date. No, I wouldn't object if I never had to date either of them again. Why don't you just tell them that I'm off limits? Them you have some authority over. Theoretically, anyway."

"If you don't want to date them then why do you?"

"I told you. They insist."

"How can they insist? All you have to do is say no when they ask."

"They don't ask. They just tell me I'm going out with them and haul me off."

"Colour me confused," muttered the coach. "So how come you haven't finished up in bed with you. Don't they just haul you off to bed as well?"

"No. They try to persuade me. I just keep saying no."

The coach considered this new information, slowly nodding his head.

"I get it. When they order you, you obey. When they try to persuade, you can say no. As a matter of curiosity, what would you do if one of them ordered you to take off your panties?"

"They wouldn't dare."

"But supposing they did. What would you do?"

"They wouldn't." Cheryl wasn't even going to entertain that idea, let alone consider it seriously.

"Right. I'm starting to get the idea. So you find you can't say no when they order you on a date and they both know it. They use that to get access to you to try to talk you into bed. You're right about one thing. If their brains were dynamite they couldn't blow their noses. Still, the situation and the fight are at least partly your fault for lacking the moral fibre to say no to them."

"I'm always saying no," protested Cheryl.

"Only when they try to seduce you. Not when they tell you to go on a date. You just need an incentive to say no and I know just how to provide it."

"Really? How?"

"Any time you date one of them I'll spank you. See. Easy. You now have an incentive to say no."

"You wouldn't dare," said an outraged Cheryl.

"Oh, I think I would. Simple enough thing to check."

The coach suddenly put on his official voice, cracking it like a whip.

"Stand up."

Cheryl found herself standing before a conscious decision had been made.

"Now drop your panties. I'm going to spank you here and now as an object lesson to you."

The coach smiled to himself as Cheryl hurriedly dropped her panties, stepping out of them and then freezing.

"You can't do this," she gasped.

"It seems to me that you think I can and will. If given a choice you feel free to say no. If not given a choice you do as you're told. You're lucky that neither of the idiots have picked up on that yet."

Red-faced, Cheryl started to stoop to pick up her panties, stopping abruptly at the coach's command.

"No. Spanking first. Bend forward over the desk."

Cheryl was honestly shocked to find herself doing as she was told. She leaned forward over the desk, resting on her hands, watching as the coach got up and moved around the desk. She gasped, her blush deepening when he flicked her dress up, revealing her bottom.

"Cheryl, in some scenarios it would appear that you're a natural submissive. This is one of them. How do you feel knowing that I'm about to spank you?"

To make matters worse his hand was idly rubbing lazy circles on her bare bottom. How did she feel? Horrified.

"I, um, ah, that is, . . ." her voice trailed away, not knowing what to say.

"That's what I thought," agreed the coach. "So here commences the lesson. If you date either Don or Paul while they're on the team the date will be followed up by a spanking. A proper spanking. This is just a sample."

With that his hand came down, slapping loudly against her rump. She gasped and jumped, clenching her teeth to stop from crying out. Another spank, quickly followed by another.

"How much more?" she wanted to know.

"Whatever I think fit," came the reply, accompanied by another firm spank.

Fortunately for Cheryl the coach was only amusing himself and giving her a warning. He really wanted her away from his two idiots before they killed each other. A salutary lesson might just accomplish that. Another couple of firm spanks and he called it a day.

"How old are you, Cheryl," he asked, his hand returning to trace those lazy circles on her bottom.

"Eighteen," came the whispered reply.

"Uh-huh. Did you know that as a submissive, if I decide to fuck you right now you'd agree?"

"No, I wouldn't," she protested.

"Really?"

The coach's hand slipped down between her legs, rubbing her mound. Cheryl squirmed a little but didn't try to stop him.

The coach stepped back and then unzipped, quickly bringing his erection to where it wasn't so cramped. Cheryl turned her head to look at him and her eyes went wide as she saw his cock was out, standing tall.

"You know, Cheryl, I really hadn't intended going this far," the coach said softly, "but you really are a delectable young lady. If you don't want me to fuck you all you have to do is ignore what I say, get up, and walk away."

Relieved, Cheryl hastily stood up. She was so out of there.

"Hold it, girl. Bend back over the desk, please."

"But you said I could walk away if I wanted to."

"And so you can. Now, bend over the desk."

Appalled at herself, Cheryl found that she was bending over the desk. He couldn't do this, she told herself. All she had to do was stand up and walk away.

"This is ridiculous," she gasped. "You can't make me do this."

The coach was behind her, his hand gently massaging, and it most certainly wasn't her bottom that he was rubbing. Then he was massaging somewhat more roughly and Cheryl was pushing herself against his hand, knowing that even more was coming.

"It appears I can," came the soft comment.

His hand had moved away but his cock had taken its place. Cheryl could feel him slowly pushing against her, into her, first rather slowly while he positioned himself, then in a rougher manner, driving in forcefully and Cheryl was pushing back to meet him.

Not a virgin, the coach noted, driving in quite vigorously. Hot and ready and, the way she was reacting, more than willing. He drove fully in, rubbing his groin firmly against hers.

He held there for a moment, busy pulling her blouse loose from her skirt. Hand up under the blouse, unclipping her bra, sliding around to capture her breasts. Now he was set.

Rubbing her breasts he lingered for a bit longer, holding his cock firm inside her. After a few moments he could feel Cheryl shifting slightly, waiting for him to begin. She flung a quick glance over her shoulder at him, puzzled. He was the one who had started this, not her. What was he waiting for?

"Ask me nicely, Cheryl," the coach told her.

"Excuse me?" A rather incredulous query.

"If you want me to fuck you, you should ask politely," she was told.

She couldn't believe this. He'd pulled down her panties, made her bend over, jammed his cock in her, and wanted her to ask him to fuck her? He had to be fucking kidding. She kept her mouth shut, waiting. And waiting. Waiting and feeling restless and peculiar. His cock was inside her. Quite a lot of cock and all the way inside her. She could feel every inch of it. Damn it, she could just about feel his heart beating through that contact. He had to do something.

"Please," she said with a groan.

"Thought you'd never ask," he said, pulling back and driving fiercely home again, much to her relief. (Much to his, too, if truth be told.)

Cheryl, the coach decided, would feel insulted if he took her gently, working her slowly up to a proper state of excitement. As far as she was concerned she was being dominated, against her will she'd be telling herself, so she would expect the coach to keep up his dominance with a rough and ready display. That was fine by the coach. He could do rough and ready with the best of them.

He drove in hard, finding her only too willing to reciprocate in the same manner, pushing herself equally as hard to meet him. She was quite happy to demonstrate the fact that being dominated didn't mean being defeated. It just changed the battleground and this was one that she could use.

His hands were on her breasts, rubbing them roughly, while his cock plunged repeatedly into her, doing his best to force her to a climax. There was no tenderness in his touch, just a ruthless driving need that thrilled her, letting her know that he was the master and she'd better be ready to handle what he was giving her.

She was quite prepared to take him on. Let him do his best or worst, as the case may be. She could handle him. He was just a man and she'd still be fine when he was shrivelled and shrunk and unable to get it up. She lifted her bottom, pushing vigorously back to meet him, to take him deep within her body. It was exciting, her arousal complete and being satisfied. She was gasping with the effort she was putting in to match him, pleased to find that he could deliver the pleasure she desired.

The coach was quite pleased with the way he was able to keep going, satiating his desires in Cheryl's tender flesh. He kept going, driving in hard, with Cheryl match him all the way. Towards the end he was breathing hard. A lot harder than normal. He was the coach. He didn't keep himself fit, he kept others fit. A mistake, he was starting to suspect. He had to finish this before he collapsed.

Fortunately for him he could recognise the signs that Cheryl was just about ready. He put in that little extra effort, heart attack be damned, and gave her his best shot. Cheryl screamed softly and collapsed under the final assault, her climax overcoming her in a vast wave of pleasure, leaving her shaken and gasping.

The coach was also shaking and gasping from his own climax, his knees feeling distinctly wobbly. He leaned against the desk next to Cheryl, taking deep breaths and trying to look blasé.

Finally able to speak he turned to Cheryl.

"Now you do understand the consequences of dating anyone on the team before the end of the season?"

"Anyone? Not just Don and Paul?"

The coach gave her a stern look. Blast it, she was standing there looking fresh and innocent, if you overlooked the panties lying on the floor next to her.

"Anyone. If you go out with any of the boys you'll just set Don and Paul off again. I'm sure you can avoid then for a couple of months."

"And if I don't you'll beat me and molest me," she murmured. "I quite understand. Now if you'll excuse me I'll be on my way."

The coach watched in silence as she picked up her panties and stuffed them in her pocket, walking out of his office commando.

"Might be worth it," he heard her softly say.

God help him. If he had to discipline her like that again she'd be the death of him.

Cheryl stopped at the door and looked back at him, smiling.

"Don't worry about it," she told him. "If one of the boys coerces me into a date I'll be sure to let you know so you can take the appropriate steps. I'll try to break tomorrow's date with Paul and Sunday's one with Don. I'm sure it will all work out."