Dawn Tyler became head of the cheerleaders when her father invested a small fortune in the football club. Her training methods were based on fear and bullying.
Her free use of the cane and gym slipper were designed to bring discipline to her unruly cheerleaders. However, her tactics were to become her undoing when one of the team conspired with some friends to teach the young lady a lesson she would never forget!
This is one really great story from one of our best authors - something you can take to bed with you - but be warned, you might not get much sleep!
EXTRACT
The cheerleaders changing room was never a place of cheer – not since
Dawn Tyler had taken over the role of head cheerleader. Since that
fateful, inevitable day when the club had allowed her father, a
Senator, to contribute substantial funds to the club, Dawn Tyler had
ruled the cheerleaders with a cane and slipper.
“That was absolute crap,” Tyler spat out when the girls had returned
to the changing room after the Sunday match, “absolute C.R.A.P.” She
spelled out the word. “I counted three dropped pompoms and a baton
that ended up god knows where. When are you arseholes going to learn
to do the job right, or am I going to have to find new recruits?”
“We’re doing our best,” pleaded Michelle.
“No, you’re not. You’re taking the piss and letting the side down.
Now, are you going to take your punishments or are you walking from
the group?” Tyler was already holding the gym slipper in her right
hand, patting the palm of her left with the flexible sole of the
slipper.
“I’ll take my punishment, again,” Michelle demurred.
“Okay, bend over, touch your toes.”
Michelle obliged. In front of the other four cheerleaders, she bent
over. She knew they’d be doing the same in a minute or so and it was
best to get this phase of Tyler’s unique training out of the way.
“Now, Michelle, you dropped your pompom and you know what the
punishment is, don’t you?”
“Six on the bare,” Michelle muttered. As she did so, she felt Dawn
Tyler lift her cheerleader’s miniskirt until it uncovered her
buttocks. Then she felt her regulation, white knickers being lowered
to below her buttocks.
“Count them out and learn your lesson,” Tyler’s tone of voice was
humiliating.
The slipper slapped into Michelle’s bare buttocks and as she gasped
from the pain she shouted out the word, “one”.
Dawn Tyler was a fairly strong, young woman. She wielded the slipper
with expert precision, making sure the strokes all landed within a
small area of the victim’s arse. By the fourth stroke, Michelle’s pale
buttock flesh had turned bright pink and she was sobbing from the
pain.
“Ow,” she moaned, “five,” as the next stroke added more fire to her
rear.
“Yeeoow, six,” she howled a minute later as the final stroke caressed
her burning buttocks, ensuring she would not sit down for some while
to come.
“Stand up and go and stand over there,” Dawn Tyler ordered her. “I
haven’t finished with you yet, but I have others to attend to first.”
As Michelle stood up painfully, Dawn turned her attention to the next
victim. “Cassy, you dropped your pompom too.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. I’ll go and get the video if you want.”
“Okay, so I dropped the stupid thing.”
“This means you either have to accept the punishment or leave our
happy tribe.”
“I wouldn’t call your dictatorship a happy one, but I don’t want to
be humiliated by being out of the group so I’ll bend over and take
what’s coming.”
“In your case it will be twelve strokes, six for the pompom and
another six for calling me a dictator.”
“Shit hole,” Cassandra muttered.
“Any more talk like that and you won’t be able to walk for a week.
Now, bend over.”
Cassandra stepped forward, bent over and waited for her mini skirt to
be lifted up from her buttocks. Then she felt her knickers being
lowered, her pale buttocks exposed for the other cheerleaders to see.
“Count the strokes, please.”
The strokes started to land, each one adding fire to a rapidly
reddening rear-end.
Next door, the team were changing. They heard the by-now familiar
shrieks of the hapless girls as Dawn Tyler administered her special
form of training.
“Seems like Dawn’s upset again today,” said Brad, one of the
forwards.
“Always is, isn’t she. I’d say it’s about time someone gave her a
dose of her own medicine.” Chuck was a back, a strong man who knew
Dawn Tyler’s reputation well.
“It’s in hand.” Ramaan was another back, of Arab descent and he too
had experienced some of Tyler’s charm.
The shrieks of the girls next door, as their bottoms took the full
heat of the slipper, continued for some minutes until Dawn Tyler had
punished all the miscreants. Then silence fell on the changing room.
In the cheerleaders changing room, the four girls who had been
punished, stood facing their leader. Their knickers were at knee
height but their modesty was preserved as their mini skirts had fallen
back into place.
“Turn round and face the wall.” Dawn Tyler had not finished yet.
The four girls, all in their late teens, did as they were told.
“Now, raise your skirts on either side with both hands.”
The skirts were raised.
“Stand still with your feet two feet apart.” Tyler relished the power
she had over them. She knew they’d do anything to stay in the team and
enjoy the admiration of their jealous peer group.
The feet shuffled apart to the required distance.
“Excellent, four bright red bottoms. Now, I am going to give each of
you a damn good caning, one stroke at a time in sequence. You will
learn to do the routines properly. The first one of you to step out of
position or drop your skirt will be out of the team. You can shout,
cry and scream, but no foul words. I’m going to start with you,
Carly.”
The junior cane was whistling through the air even as Dawn spoke the
final words. It cracked into Carly’s bright red buttocks leaving an
even brighter, red welt mark where it landed. Carly howled loudly but
managed to stay in position.
The same happened a few moments later when Michelle felt the sting of
the cane as it whipped across her tender buttocks. She too howled at
the pain. Cassandra and then Daphne followed suit, each of them
howling from the ferocity of the pain.
Then Dawn started on Carl again, the second round of torture being
delivered to buttocks that would now not be able to be sat upon for
some days.
On the fourth round of strokes, Daphne, a pretty, long-legged blonde
of nineteen years, could take no more. As the cane landed, she dropped
her skirt and, crying loudly, rushed from the changing rooms.
“Okay, Daphne leaves us as of today. Anyone else want to go with
her?”
Silence greeted the question.
“Right, that’s enough for today. Don’t forget training on Wednesday,
and don’t be late. Now, go and get showered.”
Dawn Tyler was first in the showers while the others tried to rub the
heat from their sore buttocks.
“It’s in hand.” Ramaan repeated to Brad, Chuck and Greg as they left
their changing room and saw Daphne sobbing in the far corner of the
corridor. Ramaan went to comfort her, all too aware what her problem
was.
