Jamie Connors was sitting behind her desk, grading her students’ art critiques.  High school art: a class ninety percent of her students seemed to take because they couldn’t write for shit.

She looked up from another failing critique at a timid knock on her classroom door.  “Come on in,” she said.

The door opened, and a small girl poked her head in.  It was Trisha Feldmen, one of the freshmen on her cheerleading team.

“Come in Trisha,” Ms. Connors called, pushing her papers aside.  Trisha’s desire to try out for the squad had come as a surprise.  From what her teachers had said about her, the girl was shy and reserved, not the typical cheerleader type, but at her tryouts she had dazzled both Ms. Connors and her squad with her raw talent.  “What’s on your mind Trisha?”

“Coach Connors, uh, I’m sorry, but, um, I’m going to have to, um, quit the team.”

Jamie’s jaw dropped.  She quickly composed herself, but the shock was still there.  Trisha was still on JV as a freshman, but the girl was looking at Varsity by her sophomore year.  She may not have been the archetypical cheerleader, the bubbly vapid type, but she clearly had a passion for the sport.

“Trisha, what’s wrong?  I thought you loved cheerleading.”

“It’s just not working out, Ma’am,” Trisha said, her eyes downcast, wringing her hands in front of her.

“Is it the other girls?” Jamie asked, fearing the answer.

The scared girl furiously shook her head.  “No Ma’am.”

“Trisha, I can’t stop you if you really want to quit, but I’d feel a lot better about it if you actually told me why.  I don’t want to see you throw away all your talent over something I can probably fix for you.”

Jamie had a very good idea what this was all about.  The seniors had their hazing rituals, rituals Jamie forbade but knew the girls still practiced, but since putting her foot down, their hazing seemed to be toned down to harmless pranks.  She still worried about girls like Trisha, who might not be able to take even the most innocent of pranks, but coddling the girl and others like her seemed like it might be worse than turning blind eye.  Clearly, she had been wrong.  Now it was time to shut down the hazing for good, she just had to get Trisha to admit to it.

The girl fidgeted, clearly wanting to open, but she was obviously scared of ratting out the other girls.

“Whatever you tell me stays in this room, between you and me.  If they crossed a line, I need to deal with it, so they don’t do it to any other girls.”

As she suspected, that struck a chord with the timid girl.  “Alright,” Trisha began.



“Have you lost your mind?” Jamie was practically screaming.  

Missy Taylor, the cheerleading captain, sat casually in the desk in front of teacher and coach, wearing her green and purple cheerleading uniform.  Her arms were crossed across her ample chest, and she was rolling her eyes as her Ms. Connor fumed at her.

“Clearly, you’re not taking this seriously.  This goes way beyond the scope of things I could punish you for.  You could go to jail for this.  And not just you either.  You could get the entire senior line in trouble for this.”

“I couldn’t go to jail for this.  We just gave her a spanking.”

“She said she felt violated.”

“Oh bullshit.  It was just a little hazing between teammates.”

“You think so?” Ms. Connors asked.  “She’s fifteen years old Missy!”

“She’s sixteen,” Missy muttered.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“She’s sixteen,” Missy repeated.

“And what difference does that make?”

“Not that there was any sexual interaction, but a sixteen and eighteen year old can have a relationship, at most we’re guilty of bullying, definitely not statutory rape like you’re trying to accuse us of.”

“First of all, I am very aware of the statutory rape laws.  And second, I’m not accusing you of that.”

“Wait,” Missy said, looking up at her coach.  “Why are you so informed on the statutory rape laws?”

Ms. Connors blushed.  As a young, attractive female teacher in a high school, she was drilled with information and lectures on proper conduct and laws.  She would never stoop so low, no matter what some of the guys in her class thought of her.  She quickly tried to get back control of the conversation.  “I’m not the one on trial here.  Even if, and that’s a big if, you could somehow prove you had her consent, I’m willing to bet that if I confiscated your phone, I’d find all sorts of pictures.  And let me tell you something Missy, consent or not, the moment you take a picture it constitutes child pornography.”

Missy hung her head with a pout.  Coach had her, and she knew it.  She knew she’d never face any jail time like her coach seemed to think she might, no matter what she’d done; her parents were rich and they had the best lawyers.  But still, the new coach was starting to be more trouble than she was worth.

“What are you going to do?” Missy asked.

Jamie was pleased that the girl was finally showing a bit of humility, but she still didn’t have an answer to her question.  If the girl had held up her haughty attitude, Jamie was afraid she would have had no choice to alert the proper higher ups, putting it in someone else’s hands.  She knew the girl was well connected, and very likely wouldn’t get in any real trouble for what she’d done, but the rest of the seniors that were dragged into this likely would.  And Missy herself, despite being an arrogant little bitch sometimes with the biggest ego Jamie had ever seen, she was bright and talented, and she hated the idea of ruining her future over some mistake made in high school, no matter how grave it might be.

“I don’t know yet.  Practices are suspended until I figure out what I’m going to do.  Now get out of my classroom,” Ms. Connors said, pointing towards the door.  

Missy nodded and got up, heading swiftly towards the exit.

“And Missy,” she called to the departing girl.  “If you go anywhere near any of those girls, it had better be to apologize.”

Missy paused briefly, hand on the door.  Then she opened it and left, not looking back.

Jamie sighed, sitting back down in her chair.  She had no clue what to what to do, even though she realized she’d painted herself into a corner.  If the girls had been dumb enough to take pictures, and she knew they were, they would be deleted within the next half hour, and if she did decide to take things further, it would be poor Trisha’s word against theirs.  She didn’t need to be a lawyer to know how that would play out.  They’d tear that poor girl to shreds in a courtroom, and it would only serve to publicize her humiliation.

She packed up her things and headed home for what she was sure would be a long night.



"Missy, you wanted to see me?" Jamie asked, entering the girls' locker room.  Standing there was Missy, standing confidently in front of the lockers.  She was flanked on either side by Jess Clemens and Brittany Dowd: two of the senior squad and Missy's closest friends, or more aptly, lackeys.  All three were wearing their green and purple cheerleading uniforms.

Jamie stiffened.  She hadn't expected the other two, and she didn't like it.  She felt outnumbered, and that coupled with Missy's arrogant stance, she had the distinct feeling that this meeting wasn't going to go as she wanted.

She chided herself for being crazy.  She was still the adult in the room, the coach, the teacher.  She wouldn't be intimidated by her students.

“Yes Coach Connors, we wanted to see you,” Missy said.  “Come on in.”

It was some sort of power move.  If her classroom was her own home turf, Missy seemed to feel that the locker room was where she reigned supreme.  It was fitting, but Jamie wasn’t about to let the girl rattle her with such a strategy. She was still their coach.

Jamie made her way into the locker room.  Jess and Brittany moved away from Missy, spreading out to either side of the room.

“I’m a bit disappointed, you don’t seem to be taking this as seriously as I had hoped.  Perhaps being lenient was a mistake,” Jamie said, hoping to exude the same confidence Missy was projecting.  It was particularly difficult with the girls circling her like sharks, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was their prey.

“Hmmph,” Missy snorted.  “There’s definitely a problem, and it’s definitely with the hazing procedures.  You see, you don’t understand the hazing, because you’ve never been hazed.  It’s like you’re not one of the team, and maybe you’re jealous, or maybe you just don’t get it, but we’re going to fix that.”  Her eyes flicked left and right, and on cue, Jess and Brittany pounced on their coach, grabbing her arms and holding her fast.

“Hey!  Get your hands oggmphh!” Brittany grabbed her coach across her mouth, clamping her palm across the young teacher’s mouth, silencing her.  She struggled, but the girls were in great shape, and they held her fast.

“When you started coaching us last year, you banned hazing.  You said that when you were a cheerleader your team didn’t have hazing.  Either that’s true, and your high school just sucked, or they did have hazing, and you were just so pathetic they ignored you.”

That struck a nerve, and Jamie threw herself forward.  Jess lost her hold on the coach, and Jamie bit into Brittany’s soft palm clamped over her mouth.  With a cry, Brittany released her, and Jamie charged forward.

“Listen here you stuck up little—“

Jamie doubled over and Missy stepped into her with a sharp uppercut into her coach’s gut, winding her.  Jess and Brittany were on her again in a flash, holding her more tightly this time.

“Feisty.  You might survive the hazing after all.”

“MMMMGH!” Jamie roared into Brittany’s palm, the bigger teenager keeping her palm out of reach of Jamie’s teeth this time.  

“We go pretty easy on the freshies and sophomores.  They are just kids, and we try not to do anything inappropriate or over the line.  You, on the other hand, are an adult, and we certainly won’t go easy on you.”  Missy brushed Coach Connor’s bangs out of her eyes, leaning in.  “This is my team, bitch.  We’re going to make sure you don’t forget that.”

Jamie went nuts, blessed with an adrenaline rush as she realized that her head cheerleader wasn’t just a typical alpha bitch, but a power mad psychopath.  Jess and Brittany fought to hold onto her, pulling her back as she strained forwards, so she switched directions, moving backwards with them, catching both girls by surprise with her elbows.  Missy came at her, but she pushed the off balance Brittany into the cheer captain.  She considered staying only a second before deciding she had to get out.  This wasn’t the time or place to try and exert her authority.

She turned to run, needing to get out of the locker room.  Even if going after the girls for their hazing rituals on Trisha was a dead end, assaulting their coach and teacher was enough, and she wouldn’t hesitate this time.  As she took off, Brittany shot out her arm, grabbing Jamie’s ankle.  Jamie was pulled off balance, and she tripped.  She threw her arms out to catch herself, but her head cracked against a bench before she got to the ground.  She was knocked unconscious.



Jamie awoke with a splitting headache.  There was a sharp, stabbing pain in her temple, and as she tried to reach her face, she found her hands were stuck above her.  As she opened her eyes, she found she was standing upright, her hands stretched above her.  She looked up, seeing that her hands were tied together and she was hanging from the bottom of the bleachers in the gymnasium.  She tugged at her bonds, but they held fast.  She looked down, and the first thing she noticed was that she was dressed in the school’s cheerleading uniform.  Those little bitches had stripped her and dressed her while she was out.

Something was stuffed in her mouth.  Her tongue explored the sodden mass of fabric in her mouth, stifling any attempt she might make to call out.  Her lips had been sealed shut with tape, holding the gag in place.

So had had fallen and knocked herself out trying to escape her cheerleaders, and while she were unconscious, they had changed her and then taken her into the gym and tied her up and gagged her.  And now, she believed, they were going to haze her, and from the sound of it, it was going to be a lot worse than whatever little games they played at the expense of freshman and sophomore girls.  She couldn’t believe she had so drastically underestimated Missy.

Jamie called out into her gag, not caring at this point who might find her in this state.  The lights shown threw the cracks in the bleachers, but from down there she couldn’t tell what time of day it was; it was just the fluorescent lights that illuminated the gym 24/7.

She pulled on the rope tying her wrists to the bottom of the bleachers.  It was sturdy, strong enough to hold all of her weight when she lifted her feet, but that might not necessarily be a bad thing.  She grabbed the rope in her hands and kicked her legs up.  She was unable to reach the rope tying her wrists, but if she could somehow climb up to the bleachers, she might be able to untie the rope at that end.

As she swung about, trying to get enough momentum to invert herself, she could feel the cool air around her ass and nether regions.  Her suspicions were confirmed as she managed to flip upside down, wrapping her legs around the rope, causing her skirt to flip down across her stomach.  She looked up, grunting through the pain in her forehead as the blood rushed to head.  She found herself staring up at her pussy with its neat patch of blonde fuzz above it.  Those little bitches had taken her fucking panties.

As quickly as that realization hit her, she had another horrible thought.  She found herself exploring the fabric stuffed into her mouth once more, in greater detail.  That was definitely an elastic band her tongue was probing.  A waistband, no doubt.  They’d gagged her with her own panties!

Jamie grunted.  She was getting dizzy hanging upside down; now was not the time to explore the indignities she’d been forced to suffer.  Her bare feet climbed the rope, her painted toes walking along the bottom of the bleachers.

“Well this is an interesting sight.”  The amused words of the cheer captain were followed by the click of a camera.  With a muffled gasp, Jamie spun her head to see Missy, once again flanked by Jess and Brittany, at the edge of the bleachers.

“Figures she’d take the first opportunity to show off that ass,” Jess remarked.  Jamie blushed.  As she considered her predicament, the last of her strength was quickly draining from her arms.  Reluctantly, she was forced to flip back down to her feet, her skirt falling back down to protect her modesty.

“Oh, don’t stop on our account,” Brittany taunted.  “I really wanted to see where you were going to go from there.”

Jamie stood, silently glaring at her captors.  They were predators who preyed on fear, and she refused to give them the satisfaction of showing how afraid she was of them or embarrassing herself further by trying to escape.  Even if she somehow managed to get free now, she was outnumbered, and they’d merely capture her again, likely finding new ways to humiliate her in the process.  Her only option now was to be bear whatever hazing or punishment the girls had in store for her with as much dignity as she could muster, and find a way to deal with them after.

Missy approached her stoic captive.  The art teacher barely flinched as Missy grabbed her by the chin, forcing her coach to look into her eyes.  Jamie stared into her student’s eyes, breathing hard through her nose.

“It’s good to see you have some spirit.  You might just make the squad yet.”  Missy released her coach’s tape covered cheeks, beckoning for her cohorts.

Jamie watched apprehensively as the two cheerleaders approached her.  Brittany had out her phone, evidently filming the whole thing.  As Jess got closer, Jamie saw she had a safety pin in her hand.  She tried to rotate to keep the brunette cheerleader in front of her, but Missy grabbed her by her breasts, holding her still and forcing a startled gasp from the gagged teacher.

There was a cold breeze across her derriere as her skirt was once again lifted, and when Jess was done fiddling around, she could only assume the safety pin had been used to hold her skirt up.

She let out a muffled yelp as her naked ass was slapped.  Jess leaned over her shoulder, whispering in her ear.  “You do have a great ass coach.  I can see why you were so eager to show it off.”

Jamie stomped her bare feet in a useless show of protest as her breasts were mauled through her uniform while her ass was groped from behind.

Missy suddenly yanked down the front of the uniform Jamie was squeezed into, the neck tearing and Jamie’s boobs falling free.  Missy scooped up her coach’s breasts, cradling them, as if weighing them.  Her soft, almost tentative touch turned as she dug her fingers into Jamie’s fleshy orbs, her fingernails digging into the sensitive flesh.  Jamie screamed into her gag, pulling futilely against the rope still suspending her from the bottom of the bleachers.

“Is she ready?”  It was Brittany.  Jamie had lost track of the third girl, and she looked around frantically.  Brittany was standing under the edge of the bleachers, smacking a wooden yardstick against her palm with a sharp cracking sound.

Jamie began blubbering into her gag.  She knew exactly what the yardstick’s purpose was.

“Shhh, shhh, shhh,” Missy cooed, holding her teacher’s face once more by her chin, forcing her to look into her eyes.  “Our school doesn’t practice corporal punishment, though it’s still legal in this state.  What we did to Trisha and the other freshies is something that the teachers and administrators are actually authorized to do.  It’s a right of passage, one that brings us together as teammates, as sisters.

“Now with you, a lighthearted little spanking isn’t going to be enough.  You’re not just trying to join the team; you’ve been masquerading as the coach for over a year.  We’re going to have to up the ante a little bit.”  Missy held out her hand, and Brittany deposited the yardstick in her open palm.

Jamie found she was crying at this point.  All her resolve to stay strong in the face of her tormentors shattered, and they hadn’t even used the damn yardstick yet.  But she knew what it felt like.  Unlike this school, her high school had been pretty liberal on doling out the corporal punishment.  Jamie, would never forget the bare bottom spanking she had received in front of the entire history class from her teacher, Miss Denise, for back talking the woman one too many times.  It had stuck with her, and it had instilled a new level of respect, with just a little bit of fear, for the teacher.

CRACK

The wooden yardstick connected across the center of Jamie’s tight left cheek. She squealed and spun, trying to protect her exposed ass from further assault, a stinging band of pain shooting across her ass well after the initial strike.

She was caught completely off guard as Missy brought the yardstick across her chest, the thin surface striking squarely across both of her nipples, still hyper sensitive from their resent groping.  She screamed, the pain a thousand times worse than the pain across her ass.

“I’m not going to make you stand still, but it will go a lot better if you just take your punishment,” Missy said.

Sniffling, Jamie turned back around, yelping as Missy swatted her thigh to quicken her pace.  Dejectedly, she thrust her ass out, a perfect target, bracing herself for the next blow.

No amount of mental preparation could have prepared her as the blows reigned down on her unprotected ass.  She didn’t even try to count; her exaggerated guesses putting the number higher and higher until she was sure that Missy must have struck her over a hundred times before the blows finally stopped.

Her vision was blurry from the tears, her breathing labored as she tried to keep her nose clear.  She was cut down, and she fell immediately to her knees, not even realizing that at some point the rope had become the only thing holding her up as her legs had given up trying to support her weight.

The pain of the tape being ripped from her face barely registered.  She opened her mouth, her jaw aching, allowing one of the girls to pluck the stuffing from between her lips.  She noted that it was indeed her own lavender panties that had been used to gag her as the sodden garment was used to wipe away her tears.

Missy stood in front of the humbled coach.  “You’ve done pretty well so far,” Missy congratulated her.  "Just one more task.”  Missy flipped up her own skirt, revealing that she was also not wearing any panties.  The teenager was waxed smooth, her plump nether lips engorged.  Jamie could smell the girl’s arousal.  It smelled powerful.

“You know what to do,” Missy said.  Brittany accentuated the point with a light tap on her sore ass.  Jamie looked up into her student’s eyes, looking for any sign of mercy.  There was none.  Another tap, this time from the yardstick, was all the encouragement Jamie needed.  She leaned forward, thrusting her face into the cheer captain’s crotch, her tongue flicking out to find the moist slit.  She hadn’t gone down on a girl since her supposed lesbian phase in college, but she still knew what she was doing.  

She brought the girl to a powerful orgasm, Missy screaming out in triumphant pleasure as she felt her knees get weak.  Jamie sat back on her haunches, looking up at her student, hoping for some sign that her humiliation was at an end.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something that made her feel that it was just the opposite.  Jess and Brittany both had their phones out.  Jess flipped her phone around to show Jamie a picture of her own surprised face, still glistening with Missy’s juices.

“That’s a Facebook profile pic right there,” Jess said with an evil grin.

“There’s a video too,” Brittany added.

“What?  No, you—” she was quickly interrupted as Missy stuffed her panties back into her mouth, slapping the tape back across her lips, gagging her into silent submission once more.

“I don’t think we need to post those yet, do we girls?”

“Nope,” Brittany said.

“Not if she’s good,” Jess said.

“Exactly.  This is a private team thing.  What happens on the team, stays on the team.  But if you were to say, jeopardize the team, well then, there’s no telling who might get these pictures and videos of you giving oral sex to a student.  That would certainly cost you your job here, and I can’t imagine there are too many schools looking to hire someone who gets involved with their students.  And you teach art, so I doubt you’ve got too many other marketable skills.  So unless you want to spend the rest of your life working as a waitress, you need to get one thing straight.  This is my team.  And as part of my team, I own your well spanked ass.”

Jamie nodded furiously, mumbling her assent incoherently into her gag.

“Welcome to the team, coach.  See you on Monday,” Missy ruffled the distraught teacher’s hair, before turning on her heels and leaving.  Jess and Brittany followed, Jess giving the coach one last quick squeeze of her breast with a wink before bouncing after her teammates.

Jamie sat hunched over the filthy ground for another twenty minutes before finally staggering to her feet.  She reached up with her still bound hands and pulled the tape from her lips.  She spit out the panties, and they landed with a dull splat on the dirty floor.  She left them there, knowing full well that putting on underwear over her still burning ass would be hell.  

With her skirt still pinned up over her ass and her tits still hanging out of her ripped uniform, she staggered out from under the bleachers.  It was going to be a long year.