SHREEET! The referee's whistle shrieked above the noise of the thundering players, shouting fans, and the impact of the ball when hit, headed, or kicked. Drew Simpson, the goalie, knocked backwards, hit the ground with his butt, and then his head, with two solid, successive THUDS.
Clinging furiously to the ball in his arms, he twisted and rolled to his right, then let out a loud scream as the left foot of the opposing player, Kevin Lancaster, clouted his left flank. The same opponent was the player who had just collided with him and knocked him off his feet, after he had robbed Kevin Lancaster's shot on goal. A black smudge marked the white shorts where Kevin Lancaster's kick had stricken Drew, and he rolled over on his stomach, with his face buried in the turf. Drew was a big, slender kid, 18 years old, 6'2, about 170 lbs. He was in pain, and near tears as he moaned and cried out.
"Come on, wimp," Kevin muttered softly above Drew. "Can't you take the tough stuff. There's more waiting for you, believe me." A 5'10" fiery right winger at 155 lbs of lean, sinewy muscle, blond-haired, blue-eyed, 18 year old Kevin, in his dark blue jersey, shorts, and socks, deliberately stood over and shadowed the fallen goalie who was wincing and yelling through his agony.
The whistle had stopped play, and the ref came marching emphatically over to Kevin, pulling out a yellow card to show him. "Your first hit was illegal, young man; the second one was just intolerable. At this point, I don't know why I don't give you a red card. You're just lucky, I guess."
"Lucky, my ass!" Kevin shot back. "That wimp can't keep pace with the big boys on the field, and then I'm supposed to get a penalty for his softness!"
"No, sir, Mr. Lancaster," the ref retorted. Your behavior was inexcusable. He already had the ball clean when you hit him, and it wasn't incidental. It was an intentional impact – you drove him to the ground, for Pete's sake. On top of that, you kicked him when he was down! His coach is screaming for justice. You're lucky he "
"Oh, get a life, ref! If he's not ready to get out here and take the knocks, let him go back to the nursery where he obviously belongs. We shouldn't be penalized because he's too weak or scared to take the action. And you're as weak and wimpy as he is!" Kevin retorted.
"That's it, young man. You're mouth just earned you what I knew I should have done initially. Your team is not the cause of this penalty. You are. Here's a red card. Have a seat."
"WHAT THE?! THIS IS WRONG! IT'S CRAZY! I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE IT!" Kevin was shouting at the ref, but the sound carried back to both benches and across the field to the stands.
"Get him out of here, coach," the ref called to Kevin's coach.
"Kevin, get over here – NOW! AND SHUT UP!"
Angrily, Kevin kicked at the turf, scuffing dirt and grass on the still sprawled goalie beneathe him. Then, cursing softly to himself, he walked toward his bench.
As he approached the side line, he heard the coach of the white team yelling, "That kid's a disgrace to the sport and to his own team. He's a menace. If he's hurt our goalie, he'll be wishing he could find some other sport to play."
Turning quickly toward the goalie's coach, Kevin began shouting back. You big gorilla! You think you can intimidate me? Your wimpy goalie can't take the rough and tumble! That's not my fault, you jerk!"
He began walking towards the white team's coach, when his own coach came up to him, put an arm around his neck, and headed him back towards his own bench. Grumbling, he stood behind the bench, until the other ref – the one closest to the benches – told him to have a seat. Insolently, he stared straight at the ref, before his own coach barked, "Sit down, Kevin – IMMEDIATELY!"
Play resumed, with the blue team down a man. The white team brought the ball down the left, where it was kicked out across the goal line by one the blue fullbacks. The white team set up for a corner kick, and the left midfielder lofted a kick into the goal mouth where it was about to be headed by the white team's center, when suddenly one of the blue fullbacks, Jason Andrews, rammed the white center, knocking him off his feet and missing the ball.
SHREEET! Again the whistle suppressed the rest of the noise, calling the play to a halt. With instantaneous speed the other ref, the one on the benches' side, flashed a yellow card at Jason.
OH NO! NOW THE BLUE TEAM WAS TWO MEN DOWN! Kevin sat there seething, near exploding. Suddenly, he leapt to his feet and ran left along the sideline towards the white team's bench. Before his own coach could realize what had happened, Kevin was racing at the white team's coach who was sitting at the end of the bench.
Standing up to his full 6'3", 250 lbs stature, the white team's coach looked down with his own steely gaze into Kevin's burning eyes. "YOU HORSE'S ASS!" Kevin screamed and raised his right arm as if to slug the coach's face.
Like lightning, the coach grabbed Kevin's raised right arm with his own left hand, and wrapped his right arm around the back of Kevin's waist. Then instantly sitting back down on the bench, the coach dragged Kevin down, hauling him across his lap. The coach pulled Kevin's right arm down and around, up behind his back to be held in place. Then, bouncing his right leg up and down a couple of time, the coach shifted Kevin up and over his knees, so that Kevin's cleats were barely touching the ground.
WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
The coach's thunderous, swift, swats connected against the seat of Kevin's shorts. The sounds of the thumps reverberated across the field, as everyone began turning to the white team's bench to see what was going on.
WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
Kevin was shocked! Not only was he totally surprised at being up-ended over the opposing coach's lap, but he had long ago forgotten the thought of being spanked for bad behavior. Now, this coach was pounding his behind, solidly, over and over again. The repeated swats against the backside his shorts was rapidly warming his bottom, As the heat began building up oh his behind, under his shorts, his discomfort mounted.
"Aaaummph. ahhh-ummmph. Aaaahyumph! Aiyaaaumph! Aaa-ah-umphaaa!" He could not suppress grunting and groaning under the barrage of swats pummeling the seat his upended shorts.
SHREEET! The whistle again. Hanging upside down over the opposing coach's lap, Kevin looked to his right. The ref stopped play, and motioned for all the players on the field to sit down where they were. Along with the fans across the field, the players on the field sat there watching what was taking place at the white team's bench. Looking upward as far as he could, Kevin saw the remaining members of his own, blue team who were still at the bench, standing, staring down the line at the sight of their overturned teammate.
WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!!
WOW! This was too much! Not only was the sound of the continual spanks resounding around the soccer field, he was becoming frantic to get this spanking – and the overwhelming embarrassment of it – stopped right away.
Besides, his behind was beginning to burn, and the pain had fast become too much to hope to hold out against.
WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
"Wait, coach!" he called out. "You can't do this! Wait! I'm too big for this! Stopit! Stopit! Stop it now! Oh-ah-ow! Owcha! Ooo-ah-oww! You-ah-can't-ah-OWWCH! STOP! LOOK, MISTER, I'M SORRY! OW! OW! OWW! Wow-ah-YOWWCH! STOP IT! IT HURTS! OWOWOWOWOWOWW! IT'S HURTING OOO-AH-OWWW! I SAID IT'S HURTING! STOPIT! STOPIT! PLEASE! OW-AH-OWOWOWW! I'M SORRRREEEYOWWWW!!"
The weight of his cleats and shin guards quickly pulled his feet and legs back to touch ground as he kicked and wriggled trying to escape the bombardment of spankings against his bottom.
The swats suddenly stopped. Whew! That was close, he thought. He knew he was near the breaking point. He relaxed and started to lift himself off the coach's lap, hoping to exit from the field quickly, to avoid questioning, comments, and any further immediate embarrassment.
The strong left hand of the coach, still gripping Kevin right arm behind his back, pulled it up towards his shoulder blades, pushing Kevin's shoulders, neck, and head back down over the coach's left leg. With a speedy, powerful yank, the coach's right hand grabbed the waist of Kevin's shorts, tearing them down, along with his jock, over his buttocks, thighs, below his knees to catch at his shin pads.
"AIEEYAAAUGHAAA!" Kevin exclaimed in angry frustration. "NO YOU DON'T! NOOOWAAAAY!!" he exploded. The cool air touching his blazing behind heightened his embarrassment and the stinging, throbbing on his bottom. Tensing and gathering all of his powerfully conditioned strength, Kevin pushed and twisted himself up and to the right, in a vigorous, forceful effort to free himself from the trap. The coach responded at once by pumping his right leg in a series of up and down jobs, bouncing and shifting Kevin, upending him further over the left side of the coach's lap. His cleats were jerked up and raised off the ground, and his head struck the sod by the bench. He caught himself with his left hand, as the coach's left arm and hand held him down in his farther overturned position.
WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK!!
MAN-OH-MAN!! Immediately the coach began blistering his exposed backside. The intense, rapid smacks sent an electrifying shock to Kevin's brain. WOWWW! THIS WAS REALLY HURTING!!
His dark blue shorts and supporter slipped farther down, wrapped around his legs at his ankles, and bound them from doing much more than thrusting out, bending up and back, and bouncing together from his hips. His deeply tanned legs and white – fast reddening – bottom thrashed and bounced, kicked and bucked, trying to escape the unrelenting spanks.
"AIEEYOWWW! N-NOOO-YOWWW! OWOWW! PLEASE, MISTER! I SAID-OWOWOWEEE! I'M-AH-SORREEE-AH-YOWW! OH, P-PLEASE! HAUGH-AH-OOOO-OWEEEYOWW! OOO-AH-YOWEEYOWW! N-NOOOO-AH MOOOORE! PUH-LEEZE! OOO-UH-AYOWW-A-OOOO! PLEASE-PLEASE! AIEEYOWOWW! I'M SORREEEE!!"
WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK!!
The coach only accelerated and bolstered the spanks that were igniting Kevin's behind. All at once, he broke, and began sobbing uncontrollably, begging amidst his shaking, gasping, choking, and coughing.
"OOO-AH-UH-UH-NOOO. OOO-UH-OWOWOWWW! STOP-UH-UH-PLEASE! NO MORE! OWOWOOOO-UH-UH-N-NO-UH-MORE! AIUGH-UH-UH-YEEOWW! UH-UH-IT HURTS SOOOOUH-UH-BAAAAD! I'M-UH-SORREEE-UH-UH-OWWEEEOOO! OOO-UH-UH-AAA-I'LL-UH-UH-I'LL NEVER-UH-UH-OOOO-UH-AGAIN-UH-UH-OOO!"
Then from somewhere buried deep inside, long ago, burst forth:
"OOO-AUGUH–UH-UH-P-PLEASE! I'LL BE GOOD! OWOWOWWW! UH-UH I'LL-UH-UH BE GOOD! I'LLBEGOOD-I'LLBEGOOD-I'LLBE-AIUGH! UH-UH-OWOWOWWEE-UH-UH-OOOOO-AAAH-UH-UH P-PLEASE! I'LL NEVER BE BAAAAD-UH-UH-AGAIN! OOOOO-UH-NOOOOO-UH-UH I PROMISE! OWEEYOWEEEYOWW! I PROMISE! UH-UH-AUGHA-NEVER! UH-UH-OOOO-UH-UH-NOOO! OWOWOWOWOWEEE-AA-I-UH-UH-PROMISE! UH-UH-I'LL-UH-UH-BEEE-UH-AIUGHA-UH-UH-UH-GOOOOD!! OOOOO-AAA-NOOO-UH-UH-OOOO-UH-AIEEYA-WILL! UH-UH-I PROMISE! I'LL-UH-UH BEE! UH-UH-AUGH-UH-AIUGHAH-UH-UH-OOOOOO-UH-GOOD! UH-UH-HAIEAUGH-UH!"
WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK!!
The entire field had subsided into a quiet around which the recurrent monotony of cracking swats reverberated, punctured by Kevin's shrieking, sobbing, screams.
He was kicking and screaming as much as his shaking and gasping, choking and sobbing allowed him breath to do so. The fiery inferno torching and searing his bottom was an endless scorch that simply propelled him to jump and bounce with each rapidly recurring swat. His mind was a blur of burning pain, and he no longer saw his teammates, the players sitting on the field, the refs, or the crowd across the field. He then collapsed, and hung dangling limply over the legs of the white team's coach. His only movements were the involuntary lunging and balking as each fiery new swat inflamed his bottom hotter and hotter.
When the opposing coach finally stopped spanking Kevin, the entire field of players, refs, coaches, and fans were aghast and astounded at what had just taken place before them. An unruly, defiant young soccer player, with a bullying disposition and a disrespectful, insubordinate mouth, had dared to push his insolence to the intolerable limit. He had met his superior, a master whose authority would conquer and control this young man's insurgence, and administer him an unforgettable lesson in submission and obedience. Across the field an uproar of applause broke forth.
After several motionless moments of Kevin's wracking sobs and gasps, the white team's coach gently, but firmly, reached under the arms of the defeated and humbled young man, lifting him up to stand bent over before him.
"Pull up your shorts, young man," the coach softly commanded. Already doubled over, still sobbing, Kevin reached down and gingerly pulled his jock and shorts back up his legs and thighs. He winced he pulled them rubbing over his deep red backside.
"Young man, you owe apologies to the refs, to both teams, and to your coach. After that, your fate is in his hands. Now get going with those apologies – and they better be good ones!" With that, he swatted firmly the seat of Kevin's shorts.
"AAAYOWWOOOO-AAAH! Y-yes, sir!" Kevin spurt out. Stiffly and woodenly, he hobbled across the field to the lady ref whose initial restraint, and exhausted patience, had led to his red card. No longer arrogant and _c_o_c_k_y, he was a punished young boy, dutifully doing what he was told.
"Uh-I-uh-ah-I'm sorry, ma'am. Uh-uh-honest. I really am." Kevin openly offered.
"Accepted, young man, and I hope you've truly learned a lesson," the ref replied.
Turning awkwardly and stumblingly towards the players of both teams, still seated on the field, but staring incredulously at him, Kevin, stammered, "Uh-g-guys, uh-uh-I'm sorry. It-ah-I-ah-was wrong. I m-mean it! I-yah-m sorry."
Kevin could not look back at them any longer, dropping his head, and walking slowly and haltingly off the field over to his bench. Stopping before his own coach, who was still standing, almost not believing his eyes.
"C-coach, uh-ah-ah'm-uh-s-sorry. I'll never d-do th-this again. Uh-I promise." Kevin only slightly lifted his eyes from his head still hanging, to see his coach's response.
"Okay, Kevin. If you've learned a lesson, and you really mean it, we'll see. But if not – if I see anything even remotely like this kind of behavior from you again – then I guarantee you that your seat will be redder than the card you get. Do you understand, young man?"
"Oh, y-yes, sir! D-don't you worry. Never – ever – again, coach!"
"Fine, we'll watch you, Kevin. Now, take off and head on up to the gym. I'll see you a half hour before practice tomorrow. Git!" And Kevin's coach added a firm, hard swat to his already sore, aching bottom. Jumping from the smack, Kevin stiffly broke into a run away from the field, toward the gym. As he did, he heard the whistle – SHREEET! – signal the resumption of play of the game that would be finished without him.