This short story is an entry in the 2003 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments
Category: Line
SW19
By
Plierla Fesserla <PlierlaFesserla@hotmail.com>
Attending a well known tennis festival in London SW19, I was seated at one end of centre court directly behind the receiver, Serena, one of a pair of well known sisters. She was waiting to receive serve, bent forwards, legs spread, buttocks thrust out and encased tightly in a short white skirt, skin tight shorts underneath. They swayed from side to side.
A thought floated across my mind. Had Serena not just missed that volley into an open court, she would be match point. Were I her coach, she would have maintained her concentration and be about to go through to the next round. Why, because she would be very well aware that to miss that volley would earn her another six strokes of the cane. One for each unforced error, six for each guaranteed winner missed.
She miss-hit an easy second serve way into the crowd. I cast my head down in despair, and noticed a pair of sunglasses under my seat. I reached down to retrieve them, and tried them on.
The umpire announced the score and then to my surprise, I could hear a conversation as if on a radio; the umpire again. He called "caner", I thought, «surely he means trainer» but then a short stocky man with a bald head stepped out from alongside the ball-boy below me, he held a cane in his hand; a hand that was attached to an extremely muscular forearm. Serena bent forward again to receive but while the server bounced the ball, the caner stepped up and brought his cane swishing down across her backside. Back went his arm and down it swished for a second time. Back again, I lowered my sunglasses, peered over the top. He totally disappeared; I noticed Serena's buttocks twitch but there was no sign of the caner or the cane. I replaced the glasses just in time to see the fourth stroke delivered and noticed that twitch again. The glasses stayed firmly in place; she received two more strokes before the man retired to the back of the court and the server tossed her ball high into the air.
Serena lost that and the next three games to lose the second set. With the glasses on I watched the «caner» thrash her with regularity. However, even with many more unforced errors, Serena went on to win the next set and the match.
It occurred to me that Serena might be deliberately losing these points. The short man stepped out from the back of the court, turned and looked directly at me.
"You think she is doing it deliberately?" I didn't say anything but thought, «Why don't you offer to cane her when she hits winners, and give her a good thrashing if she wins a match?»
He said, "Do you think that would work?"
I nodded and smiled. He walked over and spoke to Serena; she turned to face me. I heard her say, "Thank you, Sir, though I do not know your name."
The End
© Copyright Plierla Fesserla, 02 July 2003
Reviews
Sassy Jo <sassy_jolene(at)hotmail(dot)com>
The author has given me a good giggle tonight. Who HASN'T had some variation of this fantasy? However aside from that, I certainly enjoyed this entry. It doesn't flow as well as I would like to see however. I found the placement of the line as an interesting twist, and I must say that should I take up tennis, I will watch for anyone in strange sunglasses, and offer to win for a good thrashing before beginning a match.
Jessie
There is a lot of room for improvement here. Many sentences/phrases/words add nothing to the story and should have been left out. There is no definitive style; the language changes from casual to poetic to technical, etc., leaving no sense of what sort of story it is meant to be.
Grammatical and spelling errors abound, including changing tense within a single sentence. There is no suggestion as to what the reader is to make of the sunglasses, which appear without any good reason. There is no sense of who the narrator is. The story doesn't flow and the last line comes across as forced.
Warm Hand Jack
Many stories (and some r/l situations!) leave unresolved the problem that punishment will have the opposite effect to what is intended, if the recipient likes it ... whence bratting and other inappropriate behavior (such as making deliberate errors on the court). Why be good if it means not getting what you want? Here, that dynamic is resolved quite satisfactorily.
The chosen last line sounds more period than contemporary; however, it's completely appropriate to this situation (including the Sir), and the tale doesn't go through contortions to make it fit. Magic is not my favorite plot device; but here, with the sunglasses, it is handled so deftly and humorously (almost believably?) that I quite enjoyed it.
I would suggest that with all those errors, under the old strategy, the lady would not have won the third set and the match. It would work better for me if the change in strategy took place before or during the third set, and the reader would be left to imagine the happy conclusion of the match. Only in that situation, too, would the player still be on the court to transmit the last line.
Aside from that, the story is nicely constructed; it is highly original, flows smoothly and is fun to read. Well done.