The girl who took a dive

The referee is having none of the midfielder's histrionics, ordering her up with a flick of one finger. Her teammates help her to her feet, or foot rather, because she still favours the injured leg, gingerly testing her weight on it at the same time as she lowers her shorts and underwear to her knees, revealing a fit rounded rump that gives you a newfound appreciation for football players. She bends deep to grab her ankles while the official lines up his large yellow rectangular plastic paddle with her newly bared backside.

The implement is thick and heavy and you could swear you can hear the impact even over the hum of the crowd. You certainly hear the player's scream following the third and final swat, which nearly pitches her forward onto her face. When she straightens, her shoulders heave with sobs, although you're too far away to see the tears which are undoubtedly running down her cheeks.

Play resumes with the college team booting the ball away to give them a temporary respite, although this inevitably relinquishes control of the ball. The spanked midfielder is left on her own when the other players rush to their positions and you're sure you're not the only one who continues to watch her instead of following the action. She pulls her tight snug knickers up her muscled thighs and over her blackened buttocks, two bruises the size of saucers covering almost her entire cheeks. Her looser shorts follow and then she starts to exercise her hurt ankle, hobbling back into her own half and trying to run off the injury. It's hard to say whether the pain in her leg or her bottom is causing her more discomfort, but she's certainly not moving as easily as she was before her run in with your defender.

Julia leans over to speak to you and you lower your head so that your ear is closer to her mouth, so she doesn't need to shout.

"We'll see whether her coach spanks her at half time. That'll show whether he thinks the referee's decision was the right one."

"What do you think?"

"Well, Ripper Reilly's tackles look bad, but they're usually clean; coach Rossellini wouldn't tolerate anything else. On the other hand, that doesn't mean Akkabi was putting on an act. It looked to me like there was no fault on either side, but that's why I'm sitting here and not refereeing the match! We'll be getting quite a bit of spanking and injury time if he keeps this up."

You didn't realize Dr. Morgan was such an aficionado of women's football and you bask in her knowledge while she chats informatively about the players and tactics. She's certainly more interesting than what's happening on the pitch, with the ball being passed back repeatedly and neither side seeming to have too much desire to attack the opposing goal. The university team is at least doing a better job of putting pressure on the visitors so that they can't run rampant, but the occasional burst of excitement from the spectators isn't, as far as you can tell, reflected in the play.

Suddenly, Julia gasps and grabs your hand, squeezing it firmly. You notice out of the corner of your eye that she's doing the same with her neighbour on the other side, then you turn your full attention back to the match, trying to work out what has her so animated.