Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 65189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
“Open,” Lucas said, his voice low and dangerous. I turned to see him standing over me, just to my left.
I opened my mouth obediently, my cheeks burning with shame as Lucas reached into his pocket and pulled out my panties. The delicate lace dangled from his fingers, a damning reminder of my arousal. I could see the damp spot on the crotch, evidence of how my body had betrayed me.
Lucas bunched up the panties, his eyes locked on mine as he brought them to my lips. The musky scent of my own arousal filled my nostrils as he pushed the fabric into my mouth. The taste of myself on my tongue sent a jolt of confused pleasure through me, even as mortification threatened to overwhelm me.
I heard a few low chuckles from the team, the sound cutting through the haze of my embarrassment. Whispers and murmurs reached my ears, though I couldn’t make out the words. My face burned hotter, knowing they were discussing my predicament, perhaps commenting on my exposed body or the sight of their captain gagging me with my own underwear.
“Gentlemen,” Lucas addressed the team, his voice carrying easily through the locker room. “Alice here seems to enjoy being the center of attention. So let’s indulge her, shall we? Feel free to share your thoughts. After all, she embarrassed us all with her little stunt at the press conference.”
There was a moment of silence, then someone spoke up. “Bonjour, Alice,” the voice said, his tone mocking, “I’m Tomas—I’m a midfielder. I must say you look like a very naughty girl who needs a good whipping.”
I whimpered softly around the gag, my face burning with shame. The clinical white bench beneath me suddenly felt like a stage, with me as the reluctant performer.
“Oui,” another voice chimed in. “Perhaps she needs to learn what happens to little sluts who cause trouble for the team.”
Lucas’ hand came to rest on my lower back, his touch both comforting and possessive. “Indeed she does,” he agreed. “And you’re all going to help teach her that lesson.”
I heard the soft whisper of leather through the air, and my heart began to race. I knew that sound—it was Lucas’ martinet. The polished wooden handle gleamed in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the locker room as Lucas held it up for the team to see.
“Ten lashes,” Lucas announced. “One for each of you. If you’d indulge me, my friends, I’d invite you to count Alice’s lashes out loud.”
I tensed, anticipating the first strike. But instead of the sharp sting of leather, I felt Lucas’ hand caressing my bottom, his touch surprisingly gentle.
“Such a pretty little ass,” he murmured. “It’s a shame to mark it up. But you need this, don’t you, ma chère?”
Unable to speak around the gag, I could only nod, my cheeks burning hot.
The first strike came without warning, the leather tails of the martinet biting into my tender flesh. I cried out around the gag, the sound muffled but still audible in the quiet locker room.
“One,” Tomas called out, his voice tinged with a mixture of excitement and awe.
I barely had time to process the burning sting before the second lash fell, slightly lower on my bottom. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as the pain bloomed across my skin.
“Two,” another voice announced.
Lucas’ rhythm was relentless, each strike coming just as the pain from the previous one began to peak. I writhed against my bonds, the tape holding firm as I struggled. My muffled cries filled the air, mingling with the sharp crack of leather against flesh and the steady count from the team.
“Three,” another voice called out, as the martinet struck my tender flesh once more. The pain was intense, radiating outward from the point of impact. I squeezed my eyes shut, tears leaking from the corners to trail down my cheeks.
“Four,” came the next count, this voice deeper and accented.
As the fifth lash fell, I forced my eyes open, blinking away the tears that blurred my vision. What I saw made my breath catch in my throat. The team had shed their robes, standing naked around the bench where I lay, bound and exposed. Their muscular bodies gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights, a sea of tanned skin and rippling muscle.
“Five,” one of them called out, his hand wrapped around his hardening cock.
My eyes widened as I realized what was happening. They were touching themselves, stroking their shafts as they watched Lucas discipline me. The sight sent a confusing mix of shame and arousal coursing through my body.
“Six,” another voice announced, slightly breathless.
I could hear the soft sounds of flesh on flesh as the team pleasured their massive cocks, punctuated by occasional grunts and sighs of growing arousal. The knowledge that these elite athletes were becoming aroused by my punishment was both mortifying and intensely erotic.