The Brat gets a tough lesson

Every Friday night was veteran's football night. Men over 35, seven-a-side. A good sweat to work out the week's stress. My new girlfriend, young and vibrant, was with me. She was twenty-seven, twenty-three years my junior. Petite, with ample D-cups and a body adorned in tattoos. She was both sweet and tough. I call her in this story X.

X. was there, but her eyes were not on the game. I couldn't miss the way she'd been flirting with one of the opposing team's strikers all night. Though jealousy wasn't my thing, and I had no problem with her seeing other men, she should have asked. In our dynamic, where I held the dominant role, such disregard was unacceptable. It called for a lesson. And I knew, somehow, that's exactly what she wanted.

after the final whistle, it was always showers and beers. I handed X. fifty bucks, asking her to grab us a tray of beers and a bowl of fried snacks. Ten minutes later, she knocked at the door, laden. 'Come in,' I said. She hesitated a moment before entering. I had been standing behind the door, and now I slid the bolt home, trapping her inside. We were all naked, ready to shower.

You love to flirt, don't you, you dirty slut?" I taunted her. "Well, here are six more, plus me. That should be enough." Her cheeks flushed. Slowly, she began to undress. The others had gone to the showers, and soon we could hear the water running. She stood before me in her underwear, hesitant. Impatient, I ripped her bra and panties. Grabbing her hair, I pulled her towards the shower.

She stood naked before the shower, her gaze fixed on the six men who scrutinized her. I grabbed a marker from the whiteboard, the one we used to strategize. With a flourish, I wrote above her buttocks, "This entrance is also permitted." Then, I passed the marker to a teammate, inviting him to contribute. One by one, they marked her body. When they were finished, she was a canvas of our desires.

We pulled X. into the shower. Her eyes widened as she realized this wouldn't be a typical cleansing. The first man grabbed her hair, pulling her towards his groin. My teammates hadn't seen a beautiful young woman in a while, their arousal evident. X. willingly parted her lips, her mouth quickly filled. Leaning forward, she offered an inviting view of her shaved pussy. It didn't take long for the first cock to find its mark.

We were a unit, a brotherhood of desire. X. was passed from one to the next, her mouth and core filled, emptied, and filled again. She moaned and cried out, her juices flowing freely. After what felt like an eternity, each of us had claimed our turn. Kneeling in the center of the shower, surrounded by our circle, she was ours. On the count of three, we released, our seed raining down upon her face and breasts.

After tending to her, I pull her toward the massage table. Strapping her down, I create a sense of anticipation. She's trapped, vulnerable. I dampen a towel and fashion with scissors a crude whip. The sting of it against her skin elicits a raw cry. But I know this only heightens her arousal. When her skin is flushed and raw, I finally stop. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my teammates, their eyes gleaming with excitement.

I returned the scissors to the first-aid kit and spotted the tiger balm. We used it to soothe sore muscles, but I had another use in mind. I rubbed some onto my fingers and slipped my hand beneath her on the massage table, searching. I found her nipples and applied the balm, watching as they reddened. After a few minutes, they seemed to burn. Yet, she made no sound. She was trained well.

I was in control. If I wanted to break her, I would. I smeared a generous dollop of tiger balm onto her clitoris. She whimpered even at the slightest touch, but her pleasure was fleeting. My teammates and I watched with amusement, waiting for the burn to set in. After five minutes, the pain began. It intensified steadily, and her cries filled the room. She cursed and begged, but this was what she craved, what she needed.

After twenty minutes, the intensity began to wane. Half an hour later, it was over. I handed her a beer. Her throat was raw from screaming. I knew you’d scream again. It was time for your real lesson. When I was finished, you’d learn your lesson. You’d never flirt without permission again. Because you’d know there were consequences. You could have anything from me, but you’d have to beg for it.

I had secured you to the massage table, your bottom exposed and vulnerable. The fear in X. her eyes were palpable. She was a virgin to this. But X. trusted me. I knew I'd done this before, many times. I retrieved the lubricant from the first-aid kit. It would ease the way. I lined my teammates up, from smallest to largest, just like in gym class. Only this time, it was the size of their dicks.

I did this to prepare her for the feeling. The first one was ready. A few jokes were made about the size of his member, but he didn't mind. With a dollop of lube, he eased his tip inside her. She needed a moment to adjust. He waited, then slowly pushed. Inch by inch, he entered her, until his balls rested against her. The first one was a gentleman. He began slowly, his thrusts gentle and steady. As she softly moaned, he spilled his seed deep inside her.

They came one by one, each man more imposing than the last. With each entry, X. stretched further, her body accommodating their increasing size. Some moved with deliberate, controlled strokes, prolonging their pleasure. Others were more forceful, their thrusts rough and rapid, eliciting cries of both pain and pleasure. After five, her body was marked with their offerings. But there was one more, the largest of them all, a towering presence. With a generous amount of lubricant, he positioned himself behind her. His movements were deliberate, relentless. Her cries filled the room, louder than before. He teased her, delaying his release, prolonging her agony. Finally, he could hold back no longer. His climax was explosive, his seed spilling from her.

After the last one was finished, we dressed. X. needed a beer, her throat parched. We left her on the massage table, closing the locker room door behind us. At the bar, we drank beer, the atmosphere thick with a satisfied contentment. Whenever someone felt inclined, they’d ask me for the key and take their turn again with X. This continued until the early hours. Once the bar closed, I took X. home. There, in the quiet of her room, I claimed her one last time. She’d never felt so completely submissive.