Paddling Team (chapter three)

Alex ignored several social calls that weekend. Partly because he had allowed his classwork to sneak up on him, and now had quite a bit of reading to do. Mostly because if he went to a party in his current state, people would be sure to ask him what he was carrying that cushion around for, and he would really rather not answer those questions. By Sunday night, he had gotten several Facebook messages asking what was up. He answered them cordially, explaining he was busy with school stuff.

In reality, he spent most of his “study time” staring blankly at the text, as thoughts of Jill, Diane, and his paddling predicament ran through his head. He hadn’t been able to sit down at all Friday evening after his encounter with Coach Johnston. By Sunday afternoon he was still tender, and there were some faint - but visible - round bruises on the undersides of his buttocks. Every time he felt them ache when he tried to sit down, or glimpsed his backside in the bathroom mirror, he was mentally brought back to Diane’s office, and reminded of her ultimatum. It made his blood boil with outrage, and his stomach churn with trepidation. He had tried to think a way out of this, but the truth was that, at least for the time being, there wasn’t much he could do that wouldn’t put his ass in even more danger than it was currently. He remembered the big paddle in Diane’s office, and shuddered. Beginning on Saturday, he had started following the coach’s diet and exercise instructions. Most of it was pretty common-sensical, and in all honesty was stuff he had promised himself to start doing six months ago. More vegetables and fish, less white bread, no candy or soft drinks, jog and visit the weight room each day. Her weightlifting regime was a slightly more intensive, scientifically backed version of the one he had already been trying, with emphasis on abs, pecs, and arm muscles. The biggest difference was that she had added three sets each of squats and lunges to his routine.

Come Sunday night, Alex opened Jill‘s Facebook page and stared at it. There was so much about Jill that defied Alex’s understanding. What did she mean when she said she liked him as a bottom? She wasn’t a sadistic bitch like Diane, that was for sure. In fact, outside of practice, she came across as the exact opposite. Alex still had trouble reconciling the paddle-wielding punisher from tryouts with the mild mannered - if unusually tall - Cupcake Girl. Her profile picture showed her making that bashful grin that made her face look even rounder and frecklier than it normally did. Every time he saw that smile, Alex felt something spark a little in his chest. So hard to describe his feelings. Diane had said that she had never been so enthusiastic with the paddle until he showed up. Did that mean that she liked him? Liked him liked him?

After some reluctance, he sent her a message. “Hey, how’s it going? Well, its about to go way the hell better, because I’ve decided to give the team one more shot. Johnston said to do a makeup session with you sometime this week. You free tomorrow after 6?”

It would have to be tomorrow. Even if the bruises on his ass weren’t completely healed by then, doing it any later in the week would mean he’d still be smarting for Thursday’s practice. Alex felt his stomach sink as he realized he would probably be bringing that stupid cushion to class almost every day this week. That night, as the previous two, Alex fell asleep reliving his suffering at Jill and Diane’s forceful hands. As time passed, the pain of the experiences played less and less of a part in his memory, and he began to focus more on the feeling of their soft legs under his body, and that nameless, pins-and-needles sensation that came from a pair of eyes watching one’s vulnerable body. Even the beating with Diane’s hairbrush had a sensual element, as his agonized struggles had ground him against her lap. Lying on his side in bed, he helplessly played his fingers up and down along his turgid shaft, wondering what was wrong with himself until he came. Then he wondered what was wrong with himself while he cleaned up.

The next morning, he read Jill’s response before leaving his room. “Awesome! Can you come to my room at 6:30? I‘m in Kafton Hall #302.” Alex rolled his eyes. Right. Today is Labor Day. There was no need to put it off until six. Now I have all day to look forward to this.

He replied that that would be just fine.

…

After ten hours of trying to study, trying to exercise, trying to socialize, and trying to do various other things to take his mind off what was to come, Alex changed into some fresh clothes and made his way to Kaftan Hall. He waited in front of room 302. There was a Spongebob Squarepants poster on the door, and a doormat with a big pink heart lying in front of it.

He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and taking inventory of himself. He reminded himself that in all likelihood, Jill was going to usher him in, chat for a bit, give him the same treatment he had endured at their last practice, and then send him home. Painful and humiliating, but until he could figure out a way to defeat Diane that was unavoidable. What am I so afraid of? Spongebob seemed to be taunting him.

He rapped his knuckles against the door. There was a very quiet, very sickly pause. Then the door opened, and he smelled baking chocolate.

“Hey! Come on in!”

Jill was wearing a black halter-top and a pair of denim hotpants that left the vast majority of her long legs exposed. Alex was about to ask her if she was sure this was a good time (she wasn’t exactly dressed like he had expected), but she opened the door and ushered him inside.

“Hey. Nice place,” he followed her into the living room and looked around, “I‘m a real My Little Pony fan myself.”

“What? Oh…” Jill looked down and blushed as Alex gestured at the plush animal lying in the bedroom door. “Sorry, its kinda jumbled in here.”

Her room wasn’t terribly messy. Less organized than most girls’ rooms, perhaps, but definitely not as bad as Alex’s. He would be much more ashamed of the Storybell toy than the state of the room. But then, he wasn’t Jill.

“S‘alright,” Alex said as she showed him to a seat by the coffee table, “I guess you‘ve never been in a boys’ dorm.”

Jill looked at him as if trying to make sure she had heard right. Alex quickly realized the implications of what he had just said, meaning it was his turn to blush.

“At least…um…not one that was…um…messy.” God fucking damn it.

Jill giggled and shook her head. Alex decided he had best change the subject.

“Single room?”

“Nah, my roommate has choir practice. She doesn’t get back until ten.” Jill’s face suddenly lit up. “Ooh! Hang on!”

She swiveled around and darted into the kitchenette, leaving Alex with a view of her exposed back. When she turned back around, she was holding a baking tin.

“I made those brownies you told me about. Here, try one.”

He took one of the corner pieces. Mmm, fudge. Jill watched his reactions as he chewed. His hazel eyes narrowed as he savored the taste. She decided that little mustache he was starting to grow looked really cute when he ate.

“Wow. You put something extra in these.”

“Mmhmm.”

“What was it?”

“I’m not telling,” she said playfully, twiddling with her hair.

Alex gave her a mostly-joking glare of frustration. “Hey, I‘m the one who sent you this!”

“And I’m the one who baked them.”

He showed his disapproval by boycotting the rest of the brownies (it took all of his self control, and he just barely succeeded). After helping herself to a second one, Jill put them away. Alex’s eyes ventured in her direction when she bent over to slide them into the fridge. Tall as she was, she had to bend over quite far to do this, which meant her rather plump rear end was sticking straight out at him. Her denim short-shorts barely covered it.

“So,” she said after wiping the last couple of crumbs from her mouth, “have you got your uniform?”

Damn, here it came already. Alex tried to keep a poker face.

“It hasn‘t arrived yet. I was late getting my measurements in.”

“That’s okay,” she said as she sat on the couch across from him, “I forgot my paddle at the gym. We‘re going to have to sort of add-lib this.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Without your paddle?” He hoped that this meant she’d be sticking with her palm.

“There’s alternatives.”

That didn’t sound good.

Jill sat a little straighter on the coach. “If you’re ready, go ahead and strip down to your underwear. That should be close enough.”

Alex nodded. He had been expecting this. He unbuckled his belt and pulled down his slacks, stepping out of his sandals as he did so. He stood in front of Jill in his boxer-briefs, tan, moderately hairy legs on display.

“Alright!” Jill smiled gleefully. She patted her naked thigh a few times, making the skin ripple. “Come to mamma.”

Alex gave her a very deep, serious look, his brown eyes conveying a sense of deepest pain. “My mother died two months ago.”

“Oh…” Jill looked horrified. “Oh god,” she put her hand in front of her face, “I’m so sorry, pl-”

“Haha, gotcha.”

Jill stared at him in disbelief for a second, mouth hanging open. Then, jaw clenched in mock-fury, she jumped to her feet and grabbed Alex by the ear, startling him as she dragged him toward the couch.

“You little jerk!” She scolded, yanking him behind her halter-exposed back, “You are going to be so sorry for that!” Her angry voice was convincing enough, but Alex could see the mirth in her smile when she sat down on the couch and pulled him over her lap. The little jean things she was wearing today left much more thigh exposed than her uniform bottoms; pretty much everything under Alex was skin.

“You’re lucky I’m even giving you a warmup after that!”

“Nah, we both know its because you just love me that mu-OW!”

Jill got immediately into the spanking, thrusting her forearm roughly into his back and smacking him hard. His musculature immediately tensed up in response to her first couple of slaps; he had only been going to the gym for a week and a half, but already there was a taughtness to his stomach and chest that hadn’t existed before. Jill probably appreciated the sensation, but she certainly didn’t show it; as far as Alex was concerned, it was all pain.

“Ow! Hey, whatever happened t-AH!-to starting-OW!-light?”

“Your mother!” Jill growled as she delivered slap after stinging slap across the underside of his boxer-clad rear, hitting the same spot just under both buttocks with each smack. “Your poor, dead mother happened to it!”

Alex shuddered and gasped as her hand visited the undersides of both cheeks - hitting both with every single spank - until he was actually starting to squirm and vibrate his legs a little. She just kept smacking that same, sensitive spot, making that junction of buttocks and thighs feel like someone was focusing a magnifying glass onto it. Jill was already spanking full force, and they definitely were nowhere near thirty.

Finally, she stopped. Alex exhaled slowly, his lower butt feeling like it had had nettles pressed against it. Jill reduced the pressure on his back for a moment, letting him shift his weight a little over her thighs. This kind of spanking created a very different kind of pain. Alex decided that Jill was way, way too knowledgeable about her favorite sport.

“Okay,” she said, petting his back like a cat as she let her right hand rest, “now we’re going to start the warmup.”

Alex’s head snapped around. She was grinning in a cruel manner that one wouldn’t have thought her capable of.

“Wait, what???”

“You heard me,” she fingered a strand of her platinum hair as her smirk broadened, “that was for making me feel bad. We still have to do the makeup session, and that starts with a warmup.”

Alex was about to argue, but then remembered Diane’s warning about bruises. After last week’s hairbrush torture, Alex had to admit he was impressed by how minor the bruising had been, and that was almost certainly owed to the hand spanking she had given him first. What Jill had done so far only covered one small part of the area she was going to paddle, and he did not want the rest of it covered in bruises when he arrived at the gym this Thursday.

Jill smiled sweetly at him. Alex narrowed his eyes. Oh that sneaky, underhanded…

Growling, Alex laid himself back against the couch and didn’t look at Jill. He heard her chuckle victoriously before she adjusted him over her legs, pushing him forward a little more so that his butt was sticking higher up across her thigh.

“Ready,” she patted her hand against the fullest part of his round buttocks, tickling him a little, “set…”

Thirty slaps, fifteen across either cheek, followed in the same manner as last time. Since it was the two of them alone rather than in a gym full of other pairs, he had a much easier time concentrating on what was happening to him. She started a little harder than he remembered, her hand circling around his rump as it rose and fell with increasing speed. When she happened to smack toward the lower middle, where she had already spanked him, he hissed through his teeth and fidgeted. Quickly, the sharp burn was being spread across his ass, complimenting the preexisting pain and making his flesh more sensitive to the coming slaps. When the thirtieth cupped palm clapped against his left flank, he was just about ready to start yelping.

“Nice,” she said, resting a hand on his seat and gently squeezing one side after the other, “all warmed up. Get up!”

She gave him a few quick slaps, which made him hurry to his feet. Alex was about to put a hand to his rear, but a sharp look from Jill made him decide against it; apparently, she was going to follow all the rules. What bothered Alex even more, once he realized it, was the manner in which his boxer-briefs were being stretched tighter than they normally fit. Jill had to have noticed the large mass straining itself against his underwear, especially now that he was standing right in front of her. He considered trying to cover himself, but decided there was no way of doing that that wouldn’t be conspicuous.

“There‘s a spatula on my kitchen counter,” Jill informed him, her eyes for some reason not level with his, “can you get it?”

A spatula? What, is she going to paddle me with that? Alex chuckled at the thought; he couldn’t imagine that hurting too much. Well, I’m not about to complain. Jill watched him retreat into the kitchenette, bottom working under his underwear with each step. When he returned with the Teflon spatula, she took him back across her lap.

“Did Johnston tell you about timed paddling?” Jill asked as he tried to arrange himself in a position that minimized the conflict between his arousal and her legs.

“I‘m guessing you set a timer and hit me until it beeps?”

“Its not hitting. But yeah. First round was one minute.” He heard her fumbling with her iPhone. She then bent down to put it on the couch cushion in front of his head, mashing her chest into the back of his head as she did so.

“Oops, sorry about that! Anyway, press start when I tell you.”

She pressed the blade of the spatula against the meatiest part of his tush, bending the handle against his flesh. His muscles tensed up again.

“Keep your butt relaxed; it won’t hurt as much. Okay, ready…go!”

Alex was half a second late in hitting the button, and was already hearing the spatula whistle through the air by the time the countdown started.

SNAP!

Oh. Oh, that stung alright. Okay, maybe spatulas aren’t such a silly thing to…

SNAP!

Jill’s meaty arm lifted itself halfway to shoulder length, letting her wrist do most of the work as she whipped the long-handled kitchenware through the air, the flexible blade fanning her face as it whistled into Alex’s bum.

SNAP!

“Gaaah!” Alex followed his exclamation with a sharp intake of breath, a tremor passing up to his shoulders and neck and down to his ankles. Jill saw fit to put her left arm back in the pinning position as she increased the speed of the paddling. Soon, the snaps were falling almost every time the iPhone ticked off a second.

Alex hissed through his teeth and grimaced as each burning firecracker exploded against his underwear. It wasn’t as bad as the lexan paddle, and certainly nothing like the varnished blade of Diane’s wooden hairbrush, but what it lacked in force, it made up in snappiness. It was a very hot, very shallow sting, short-lived, but surprisingly intense.

SNAP!

SNAP!

SNAP!

Finally, just as Alex was about to lose his composure, the timer rang. Jill let him get up, and - with an approving nod of her head - gave him permission to rub. This he did, his back facing her.

“Hmm,” he heard her muse.

“Hmm?” He asked back, kneading his flesh. The sting was intense, but fortunately it was already starting to subside.

“The spatula is really light,” she explained, “I’m not sure this is really working.”

“Trust me, its working.”

Jill just shook her head. Alex’s reaction to her sixty second paddling was not up to her standard, and she knew it wasn’t for want of trying.

“Not really. I know you felt it a little, but its not the same as the paddle.”

She wore a musing expression for a second. Alex was about to reassure her that she was doing just fine as it was when she cut him off.

“Hey,” she said, “so, this might sound just a little weird, but maybe if you…took your underwear down…that could make up for it?”

Alex laughed and started to make a witty comeback, but then he met her eyes.

“You’re serious?”

She nodded, a little of her easy blush showing itself in her face. “The spatula just isn’t that strong. Diane’s going to want us used to more intensity for this week.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “You’re serious.”

Jill blushed even redder and shrugged her exposed shoulders. “We’re both grown ups.”

There was a long, silent pause, as Jill sat on the couch and Alex stood in front of her, eyes locked carefully onto each others’. Jill looked a little nervous, as if she might have said something she shouldn’t. Alex looked like he was trying to solve a complex math equation.

Then, he - very slowly - approached her again. Hooking his fingers under the waistband of his boxer-briefs, he pulled them down toward his thighs. Jill watched him. Nerves began eating away at Alex as he, with increasing slowness, took down his underwear. Anxiety had punctured his arousal. By the time his underwear worked their way past his crotch, his penis was mostly flaccid; just swollen enough to hang an inch or so further out then it would limp. Alex didn’t know if this was a good thing or not; did he want to hide his arousal, or did he want to come across as the kind of person who was frequently erect? Which one was “right” in this situation? Alex had been naked (well, okay, mostly naked) in a woman’s presence before, but never in a fully clothed woman’s presence. This was different, and unnatural.

“Okay,” said Jill, “bend back over.”

Something about those words sent a tingle down his spine. He felt his dick start to expand again as he climbed back onto the couch and lowered his now half-naked body onto Jill. Her thighs were soft and warm against him. As Alex laid himself back across the couch, Jill set the timer again.

“Two minutes,” she said, “think you‘re ready?”

Alex shook his head. “I…I really don’t know.”

Jill nodded sympathetically, understanding what he meant by that and probably feeling the same way. Then she said “Let’s find out!” and picked the spatula back up.

Alex’s bottom was already somewhat pink, especially across the lower surfaces. Jill had already made up her mind, however, that she wanted it bright, shiny red. She gently rubbed the spatula against the pink part, where the curve of his buttocks was most prominent. He shivered again over her thighs.

The bite of the spatula on naked skin was a whole different kind of sting. It felt like it was catching his skin and trying to tear it away. Such a high, sharp sting, like a hornet.

“Ow!”

The spatula made its tell tall whistle, followed by another loud snap.

“OW!!!”

The blade left a most amusing red rectangle wherever it landed, patchworking Alex’s target with scarlet squares. Evening things out would be a challenge, but Jill had always been good at coloring within the lines. Alex’s legs were kicking a little, his body going from a subtle wriggle to a series of actual, involuntary jerks.

Whistle. Snap. Pain. Repeat.

“Don’t be such a baby!” Jill scolded playfully as she tried to hold him down, all the while getting as many smacks in as she could with the spatula without sacrificing force, “remember, I can penalize you for breaking position!”

Alex’s body kept jerking itself away from the fiery lash, its gyrations and bouncing grinding him obscenely into her legs. His fists clenched and unclenched. He started to raise his body, but she pushed it back down and held it while administering a quick series of extra hard smacks, making him howl. His dignity was crumbling. The stimulation of her supply thighs grinded into his crotch was growing.

Suddenly, the paddling stopped. Alex blinked his tearful eyes. There was still nearly a minute to go…

“Lift up,” jill commanded, smacking her palm against the side of his hip.

Unsure of what was going on, Alex did as he was told, lifting his waist above her legs. As he did so, he felt the head of his now throbbing cock slide across her thigh, standing straight down now that it had room.

“Back down!” She accompanied her words with an unkindly hard flick of the spatula, landing each half of the crimson rectangle on a different side of his crack.

“AAAAGH!!!” Alex quickly collapsed back onto his belly, and immediately felt Jill’s thighs close, like a pair of pincers, around his penis. He was about to comment on this when she tensed her thighs, tightening the vice and making him gasp.

“Just getting that out of the way,” she explained, “it was poking me.”

Whistle. Snap. “AAAH!!!”

His body cobra’d and jackknifed over her lap as she renewed the spanking at full strength. Alex was crushed between sensations. Burning agony when the spatula landed, muscular exertion when he jerked away from it, and then intense, sexual stimulation as that pulled his dick against her imprisoning thighs. She kept spanking him, bringing the spatula down more and more on his sit spots, which she had already thoroughly reddened with her hand. Alex raised and lowered his hips in symphony with the licks, so that he was thrusting in and out of her luscious thighs, his penis jabbing painfully into the sofa cushion with each push. He started breathing deeply, his yelps of pain interrupting a moan. His bottom was bouncing up and down as he fucked her lap, encouraging her to hit it harder, spatula colliding with it as it lifted to increase the force. Alex couldn’t believe it, but he felt like he was about to-

The timer rang, and Jill stopped. Alex straightened up, and - on a single impulse - they grabbed each other around the shoulders and kissed. Alex felt like he was floating over the pain as he somehow ignored it, focusing all of his awareness on Jill; her naked back under his hands, her hair falling around his neck, her lips and tongue as they fenced and sucked and pulled at his own. Jill grabbed at his shoulders, seeming to compliment their width and texture with her attention. Alex’s own hands ventured under the strap of her top, acquainting themselves with parts of her milky skin that he had long been wanting to touch. Alex didn’t have time to be anxious, or uncertain, or to think any other such distracting thoughts. The only things he was aware of were pain, lust, and Jill.

Jill abruptly pulled her face away, pushing him back. Alex had only a brief moment to be disappointed, however, before she opened her legs, stood upright (nearly spilling him onto the floor), and ripped off her hotpants, revealing a muff of blonde hair between her Amazonian thighs. Then, she grabbed Alex and wrestled him onto the floor, ignoring his squawk of pain when his tormented buttocks hit the carpet. She squatted over his head, pushing her sopping vulva into his face. As his tongue started to sample her labia, she leaned over and pinned his thighs under her hands, relishing his pain as she forced his ass against the floor, before lowering her lips onto the head of his boner. Alex wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her vagina closer into his mouth as her smell overwhelmed his nostrils and her fluids soaked his face. His entire world became her blonde vagina, his smouldering ass, and the torturous sucking at the tip of his cock. He grabbed at her body, fondling her stomach and back and then grabbing and squeezing her big buttocks, all the while spelling his name around her clitoral hood with his tongue. Jill gasped and moaned appreciatively, taking his circumcised head into the back of her mouth and running her tongue up and down his shaft, her hands stroking at its base and fondling his balls. He was too long for her to fit most of him in her mouth, so she locked one hand around the base, pistoning it up and down to meet her own lips, her tongue circling the tip and then running itself along the underside. When Alex suddenly pulled his tongue away from her clitoris and forced it all the way into her vagina, she whimpered. When he began curling it against her G-spot, she moaned. As he worked, he let one hand squeeze her left buttock, while the other delivered a hard slap to its twin. Jill responded by thrusting her bottom outward, inviting another smack as Alex readjusted his face under her pussy, his moustache tickling her clitoris and labia as he pushed his tongue back inside of her. He felt himself trying to cum, but he forced his body to hold out. He tried to shut out the wizardry she was performing on his cock, to put every scrap of himself into penetrating her with his tongue, fingering her clit, grabbing her thighs, smacking her ass. He kept squeezing more of her pungent, female lubricant onto his face, racing to outrun his own need until finally it caught up with him, and he pulled his face out of her before he could suffocate as an explosion of pleasure rocked his body, pouring from his crotch into every extremity of his body. The two collapsed, panting, onto the floor.

“Nutmeg,” Jill whispered.

“Huh?” Alex craned his head to look down at her.

“In the brownies. I added nutmeg.”

“Ah, right,” he panted a few more times, “I knew it was either that or,” he panted again, “cinnamon.”

They made eye contact, Alex’s hazel eyes looking into Jill’s crystal blue ones. They started laughing. Alex flipped himself around so he was lying face to face with Jill. They put their arms around each other and kissed. The taste was odd, but neither of them cared all that much.

“Shower?” Jill suggested.

“Good idea.”

They cleaned themselves off in the shower, hot water flowing over both their bodies as they helped each other scrub and wipe themselves clean. Alex yelped when the hot water touched his ass, making Jill giggle. He kept that part of himself out of the shower as they washed. Alex made a point of sampling both of Jill’s big breasts, tasting and teasing her nipples until she made him stop, fearing things would get out of hand too quickly. It was he, however, who had to pull her hand away from his glisteningly wet penis, as it was still tender and aching from its last assignment. The two dried themselves off and retreated to Jill’s bed, treating themselves to another fudge nutmeg brownie each on the way.

“I told you paddling’s a great sport,” Jill gloated.

“I told you your mind was in the gutter,” Alex gloated back.

“Oh, whatever. You’ve been checking me out since our first day in class.”

“I’m a victim of society; I just do as my peers expect of me.”

“Shut up.”

“Kay.”

They kissed again, Alex fondling her shoulders and squeezing her right bosom in the process. When she nuzzled her chin back over the crook of his shoulder, she suddenly saw something that made her face light up.

“OH!!!”

She got out of bed, giving Alex a fantastic view as she danced across the room, pulling something out from under the nightstand.

“HERE’S where I left that paddle!”

She turned back toward him on the bed, grinning evilly, tapping the lexan blade against her palm. Alex’s eyes widened.

“Oh you wouldn’t…”

“Why not?” She asked sweetly, seating herself beside him.

“Oh you bitch!”

He grabbed her right nipple and twisted it, making Jill squeal in pain and startle back, grabbing her hurting breast and shooting to her feet. Growling, she threw herself back at Alex, tackling him. They wrestled for nearly a minute, Alex fighting dirty, until Jill managed to get his arms locked under his body and herself seated on his naked back. She grabbed the APA paddle and swung full force at his round, red bottom.

CRACK!!!

Alex roared in anguish. Jill smiled.

“I don’t have my phone, so let’s count to thirty.”

…

At 10:30 PM, Jill’s roommate came home.

“Hello?”

No answer.

After grabbing a brownie (mmm, nutmeg), she peeked her head into the bedroom. The light was off, but she could see Jill lying, asleep, in bed. There was a boyishly handsome and equally asleep male face visible over her shoulder, the body connected to it spooned around hers. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, the saw that the blankets didn’t cover all the way to their necks, and that his hand was on her breast. Jill was clutching, as always, her My Little Pony plushy as she slept.

Jill’s roommate smiled, perhaps a bit jealously. She noticed the lexan paddle lying discarded on the floor by the bed.

Okay, she decided, that does it. I’m joining that team next semester.