FP Chapter 4

Your new player’s name is Carly.

She’s a beauty, but she’s also a problem. When you find her at the cabin, she gives no indication of what she saw. The other girls are welcoming her, but they don’t realize that they need to behave around her. You walk in on Sun naked, several others topless, and Lara already trying to flirt with her.

“Hi,” you say to Carly. “I’m Riley. Glad to meet you. Give me a second with her,” you add, yanking Lara away. You pull her into the bathroom and explain what’s going on.

“You did it with Tiff?” Lara asks, her eyes lighting up. “Were they sensitive?”

“What?”

She motions toward her chest. “I always wondered if her nips were…”

“Shush! Focus! You need to tell the girls, quietly, that we’re being nuns now. At least around her,” you order. “She’s spying on us for the… evangelicals or something.”

“Suppose I’ll have to cancel my abortion,” Lara jokes, rolling her eyes.

“Hey! Stop it.”

“Lighten up,” she says. “I’ll have her eating out of my hand.”

“Lara,” you say, grabbing her shoulders and getting her attention. “Do you ever want to look into my eyes while you cum inside me?”

You’ve got her. She scowls. “Well, actually what I really want to do to you is…”

“Shut up. I’m in charge. The more you argue, the more I’ll punish you when we get to the lodge,” you threaten.

“Maybe I like that.”

She does, but what she likes more is getting her rocks off. You aren’t afraid to tie her up, edge her, slap a chastity belt on her—and she knows it.

Lara groans. “OK, Riley. I’ll handle it.”

“Get us to the Lodge on Friday without any fuckups, and I’ll reward you,” you promise. She knows you’re good for it.

She sobers up and sighs. “All right. You Americans take the fun out of everything.”

“I know,” you say.

She pauses by the door. “Well, I suppose it’ll be fun trying to sneak around for everything.”

You aren’t sure about that. The girls take it well, and pretty quickly the clothes come on. You quickly get Carly to yourself. She’s a little uncomfortable, but that makes sense. She walked in on an explicit moment, and your girls are very comfortable with each other. She’s still a stranger.

She seems very sweet. If Tiff hadn’t told you to your face that she was a spy, you would have figured her for an ordinary player. She’s a defender, but as you chat with her about herself, you quickly find a small problem.

“So you don’t play for A&M?” you ask, puzzled.

“No,” she says. “I’m focused on my extras.”

“Is there another league or something?”

She shakes her head. “No, I haven’t worn cleats since I was a senior.”

This girl… hasn’t played organized soccer since High School. She was a pretty good player then, but she’s got to be rusty. And… she’s gorgeous and perfect, but now that you’re sitting next to her on a bed, even with her clothes on, she’s obviously not in heavy cardio training. A girl like Ingrid on Blue Team can get away with a lower level of fitness because she’s a defensive genius at positioning. Is Carly that good? Maybe she is.

Or maybe they chose her because of her looks. That wouldn’t surprise you. FUTA is all about beauties.

“I go to the same church as Dolly and Holly,” she says.

“Who?”

“Dolly and Holly. They’ll get here tomorrow. You will love them,” Carly assures you.

Those must be the health people. OK, so Tiff’s right. She wasn’t picked for her looks, she was picked because she’s loyal to this puritanical inquisition that’s come to stamp the lewdness out of FUTA.

It’s a weird night. Usually, there would be a little fun before bed of some kind; someone would need to get punished or rewarded for something, and that would by proxy give all the others a little pre-bed masturbation aid material.

Not tonight. Anyone feeling horny has to take care of themselves like… well, like people did before your team got so comfortable. Rubbing one out in a stall or the shower, or in Rebecca’s case, under the covers. She realizes that you’ve spotted her and stops… then starts again, but more discreetly.

And Carly is just as sweet as can be, walking around in cute shorts and a snug, blue undershirt that’s stretched over her magnificent rack. You remind yourself that this is not some crazy new situation, this is just normality. The crazy situation was what you were doing before.

That does not help you when you wake up with ridiculous morning wood because you didn’t get any release the day before. You’re on edge, on the lookout as the day begins, keeping an eye on your girls and making sure that they’re behaving.

In the dining hall, you catch Ela’s eye as you walk past her. You already texted her to let her know what’s going on. Yes, these days you mostly take care of your own team, but you aren’t going to neglect the girl who started all this. Without Ela’s thirsty submissiveness, you never would have learned how to take control.

But now you have to pay attention to the women on the stage. Carly sits beside you at Pink Team’s table, inadvertently taking Elena’s spot, but Elena is cool about it. You sit, your eyes on the two strangers.

This is Holly and Dolly. You know which is which because they wear name stickers.

Dolly is about Rebecca’s size, a girl with sharp eyes and dark, wavy hair. She wears an adorable, white summer dress and holds a hat and a pair of sunglasses.

Holly is almost as tall as Elena and with a similarly powerful build. Her hair is short and sticks up because of the red headband she wears. Her outfit is like that of a gym teacher from an 80s movie: pink shorts and a white, sleeveless shirt. She’s not as much of a muscle goddess as Zarya, but she’s stronger than Adella, and maybe even Elena too.

Dolly’s smile is smug. Holly’s is big and open, showing perfect, white teeth. She looks thrilled to be here. You wish that you could say the same.

Annette’s not here. That’s telling. You don’t see the producers around, either. The coaches are all grouped up at the back of the room. You don’t look at Tiff; she must be uncomfortable enough already.

“Hi, everyone,” Dolly announces with a wave of her sunglasses. “I don’t need a mic, right? I’ll just speak up. I think FUTA has already told you that we were coming, right?”

There’s a halfhearted reply of yes from the six tables of girls.

“Great. I’m not surprised that you’re not super glad to see us,” she goes on warmly. “I get it. I really do. And I won’t turn this into a long speech or anything, but I wanted you to know why we’re here. FUTA’s a hit, ladies. And it’s because of you,” she says, doing a gesture with her glasses that takes in the whole room. “You already know that. You have social media. But have any of you been looking at the metrics? The breakdown of who you’re popular with?”

She lets that hang, looking at you expectantly with a smile.

You look around, seeing that she has everyone’s attention. She has yours too.

“No? You’d think that you’d be popular mainly with guys, right? I mean, let’s be real. I’ve seen some of the costumes they’ve made you wear. Hubba hubba,” she says, and you cringe. “But it turns out that it’s not that simple after all. You have a big viewership that’s girls. Specifically a lot of young girls. That’s why we’re here,” she says, glancing at Holly. “Me and my twin sister.”

“Twins?” Adella blurts out at the Blue Team table.

“You don’t see the resemblance?” Holly calls out, laughing. Some of the other girls laugh at that. No way. Are they liking these two? Well, they seem nice and friendly…

“Young girls,” Dolly goes on. “When you have that many young girls watching, you have to think about the example that you’re setting. That’s why we’re here to spoil the party. You’re already setting a good example. You’re go-getters. You’re in charge of your own lives. But we can’t avoid the way that FUTA is sexualizing you and frankly objectifying you. And that would be one thing if you were on late-night TV, but you’re not. You’re all over Youtube and stuff, and there’s a lot of little eyeballs on that, you know? So we’re just going to help FUTA shift the focus a little bit away from the T&A and to something a bit more wholesome.”

“Like what?” Meghan from Green Team asks boldly.

“Like physical fitness. Athletics. The actual game,” Holly tells her, planting a hand on one well-muscled hip. “Until you all look like her.” She points at Zarya, who’s hanging out at the back with the coaches.

Everyone laughs. Zarya flexes an arm, and Holly flexes right back at her.

“No, seriously. Girls out there are going to imitate you guys. If they’re going to do that, we want them to emulate the right things,” Dolly says with a laugh.

xXx

“They talk a good game,” Lara notes. She wears a frown, her face lit by the screen of her phone in the dark storage room. You’re seated on a stack of mats, and she’s by the door.

“Yeah,” you agree with a groan. You grunt and stop playing with Ela’s sweaty, green hair to press down on her head. She’s kneeling in front of you, and Lara folds her arms and watches you fill the Polish girl’s mouth with cum.

You let Ela free, and she swallows with a gulp, then moves her head back in to lick your sticky shaft clean.

Breathing hard, you look up at Lara.

“What do you think?” you ask.

“They’re right about the example bit,” she says with a roll of her eyes.

You were thinking the same thing. It annoys you because you have a feeling that most of their politics are very different from yours, but the part about not teaching kids to objectify people… that’s probably legit. It makes it harder to think of them as the bad guys, but they’re still screwing with your team’s style.

“Setting an example for the kids is one thing,” you tell Lara, absently playing with Ela’s hair as she sucks. “What grownups do behind closed doors is something else.”

“We’re grownups?”

“We’re all over eighteen.”

She nods. “What’s the plan?”

You shrug, stroking Ela’s hair. “We behave.”