Date: Mon, 24 May 2010 18:26:56 EDT
From: ldavis4@hotmail.com
Subject: School Girls

School Girls by Laura Lynn Davis. F/F Spanking
===================================
I was sitting in the top row of the bleachers with Ashley  Hunter, my best
friend, watching the tryouts for the girl's basketball team. I  was feeling
kind of smug because, as returning varsity players, Ash and I didn't  have
to try out even though we were lowly sophomores. We were kind of glum
because the lack of a true center had caused us to fall just one game short of
winning the state championship in our freshman year and the tallest of the new
 kids was about 5' 10". I'd been the point guard and Ash had been the
shooting  guard on a team that went 21-2.
I was watching a would-be center make a fool of her self  when Ash dug her
elbow into my ribs. "Holy shit! Look at the girl that just came  in."
I glanced at the door and froze. The girl standing just  inside was at
least 6' 3". She was blonde and slender and impossibly beautiful.  I shrugged. "
She's too pretty to be any good." As if to confirm my statement the
blonde stumbled as she crossed to the bleachers. "Klutz." I turned my attention
back to the floor as the blonde began to remove her warm-up  pants.
A moment later I felt Ash nudge me again. "Jeez, Sal,  she's gorgeous."
I gave her a sour look. Ash is the only one who knows I'm  gay. I leaned
close and whispered, "I don't need a girlfriend. We need a center  and she's
not it. She's a klutz." The blonde stood up and walked to the  sideline,
stumbling once again. I glanced at Ash and shook my head. The blonde  was a
beauty. She had long coltish legs, perfect legs. She also had a nice  figure.
I squashed those thoughts and watched as she talked to the  coach.
The coach said something and then nodded. The blonde  moved out onto the
floor and somebody fed her a bounce pass. Then a miracle  happened. With the
ball in her hand she turned into a vision of grace and  beauty. She dribbled
twice and dropped in a perfect lay-up. For the next ten  minutes we watched
in awe as the blonde put on a clinic on how to play the  post.
Then the coach turned and shouted, "Sal and Ash, get your  butts down here.
We've got a championship to win."
At 5' 7" I was no match for the big blonde whose name was  Ingrid, but I
was tough and the coach told me to rough her up a little and see  if she
could take it. A lot of the teams in our league play a very physical  game.  The
first time Ingrid went  for a rebound I put my elbow into her belly and she
went down hard, the breath  knocked out of her. Her green eyes flashed when
I reached out to help her to her  feet.
A few moments later, at the other end of the floor, I  went up for a
rebound and caught her forearm across my face. I hit the floor  hard and sat there
for a moment while I checked to see if my nose was broken  again.  Ingrid
smiled sweetly as she  hauled me to my feet.
Back down at the other end I dropped my shoulder and  tried to knock her on
her butt. It was like hitting a wall. A soft wall that  refused to move. I
landed on my butt, slightly dazed. When I got up, I trotted  over to the
coach. "She's too damn big for me. Can I ease up before she kills  me?"
Coach rubbed her hands in glee and nodded. "I can smell a  state
championship already."
"Who is she? Where'd she come  from?"
Coach shrugged. "Her name's Ingrid Larsen. She's from  Denmark and she
just arrived in this  country. She's a sophomore like you. That's all I know."
She paused and nodded  toward the door. "But she's got to be somebody to
have those two following her  around."
I glanced at the door. A man and a woman were standing  there, watching.
They were in their  thirties and had that same look that you see in the
people surrounding the  president when he travels. Bodyguards. Expensive  ones.
As I trotted back onto the floor the woman beckoned and I  veered toward
the door and stopped a few feet from them. The woman smiled and  said, "Don't
try to intimidate Ingrid. You'll only get  hurt."
"Thanks for the advice but I figured that out for myself  already."
The woman smiled. "She could use a friend  here."
I stepped closer. "Who is she?"
The woman dropped her voice to a whisper. "Her name is  Ingrid but her last
name isn't Larsen. She's the Princess Royal, heir to the  Danish throne."
I stuck my tongue out at her. "Jeez, if you don't want to  tell me just
say so." I shook my head in disgust and went back onto the floor. I  heard the
woman chuckle as I trotted away.
Later, after practice, I watched Ingrid leave with her  bodyguards. The
next morning I was sitting in my first period English class when  she came in.
She was wearing the same uniform as the rest of us but on her it  looked
incredibly sexy. Her shirt was tight across her chest and she was showing  a
lot of long, sleek thigh. I saw Mr. Brown's eyes glaze over as he watched her
walk to a seat near the front.
Our school didn't use the traditional Catholic school  uniform. Our skirts
were charcoal gray and we wore white shirts, white or gray  knee socks and
black loafers. It was a girl's school so the only males around  were teachers
or custodians.
After class Ingrid caught up with me in the hallway.  "Erica told me that
she told you who I am. Will you please keep it to yourself?  It's going to
come out sooner or later but I'd rather have it be  later."
I glanced up at her. "Don't worry. She told me some zany  story about you
being a princess. I won't repeat it. I don't want people  laughing at me."
Ingrid grinned. "Thanks, but she told you the  truth."
I stopped. "You're kidding? Aren't  you?"
She glanced back over her shoulder. "No, I'm serious. See  you later, Sal."

By the time I got to practice that afternoon I was  convinced that I'd been
the butt of a joke cooked up by Ingrid and her minders  so I was in a bad
mood. I took it out on Ingrid and she gave as good as she  got.  Halfway
through practice coach  pulled us off the floor and sat us down. "I need you
both if we're going to have  a good year. Stop trying to kill each other,
understand?"
We nodded in unison. "Yes,  coach."
As soon as we got back on the floor I dumped Ingrid on  her butt as we went
for a rebound. Coach sent us down to her office. "I want you  in opposite
corners, on your knees, when I get there." Kneeling in a corner was  an old
punishment that was still popular at Eastern Catholic. So was the paddle.
Coach let us stew for fifteen minutes. When she came in she said, "I checked
with the office. Your parents signed the consent form for corporal
punishment.  Get up and bend over my desk. One on each end."
We got up and moved to opposite ends of coach's desk.  "Get your shorts
and panties down before you assume the position." I tugged my  shorts down and
then my panties. I was blushing furiously when I bent over the  desk,
taking my weight on my forearms. Ingrid was slightly slower to  respond.  We
stared at each other in  silence. Her eyes were barely a foot from mine.
Coach gave us ten each. Ten very hard strokes with a  wooden paddle. I was
first. Coach was strong and the first blow drove the breath  out of me.  I
grunted and I saw  Ingrid wince. Her left hand crept out and covered my right
hand. Coach took her  time, measuring each blow. By three I had tears
rolling down my cheeks, by five  it was hard not to scream. My butt felt like it
was on fire. By seven I was  sobbing. Ingrid squeezed my hand whispered, "
Hang on, Sal. Only three  more."
I hung on. Then it was my turn to watch while Ingrid was  paddled. Her
expression never changed and she never made a sound. I knew she was  in pain
because I could see it in her eyes. Tears streamed down her cheeks but  she
never made a sound. Not one. When it was over coach told us to compose
ourselves and get back to practice. She left and we straightened up slowly. I
rubbed my sore butt and then pulled my panties and shorts up.  We walked down
the hall in silence and  stopped in the locker room to blow our noses and wash
our faces in cold water.  Ingrid glanced at me as we left the locker room
and said, "You've got a cute  butt."
I stared at her in surprise. "How do you know?" Then I  remembered the
mirror on the wall in Coach's  office.
She grinned. "I had a perfect  view."
I bumped her with my hip and whispered, "Bitch. Next time  you get that
side of the desk."
"No way. Your ass is much cuter than  mine."
Three nights later, in the back of a luxurious Mercedes,  I tasted royal
pussy for the first time. Erica was driving. Her partner, Kurt,  was back at
the house where Ingrid was living. It was Friday night and we were  on our
way home from the movies. I resisted for a moment when Ingrid slipped her  arm
around me. "What about Erica?"
Ingrid smiled. "Erica sees a lot, but says nothing. Isn't  that right?"
Erica nodded. "That's right, your  highness."
Ingrid drew me close and kissed me. Five minutes later we  were naked.
Erica drove around for an hour while we made love in the  back seat.
Later, when Erica drove me home she stopped the car along  a quiet street
and got out. She opened the back door and asked me to step out so  she could
talk to me. It was short and sweet. "I love that girl and if you do
anything to hurt her I'll kill you. Do you  understand?"
I nodded. "I understand. I love her  too."
Erica looked at me with an expression of utter  desolation. "I know.  And
that's the  only reason I don't hate you." She opened the car door for me
and I ducked  in.
We won the state championship that year. Ingrid and I  were lovers until
she went back to Denmark for the summer. She never  returned. Two years later,
in an elaborate ceremony, she was crowned queen.  Erica was in the
background in one of the news photos, smiling happily. I never  saw either of them
again.
The End.