A/N: This story ended up going in places I didn't expect, but I'm pretty happy with the outcome. I appreciated your suggestions. I was rather torn on which direction to go with, and in the end, I think I picked something of a middle ground. Hopefully you all enjoy this rather unique chapter.
Part 6
Jennifer sat in silence next to Rachel outside the coach’s office. Only moments ago, she had stripped completely in front of her teammates. Her teammates, by the way, that she would have to see every day for the rest of the school year. And perhaps even longer than that depending on how difficult it was to transfer schools. She swallowed bitterly and glared at Rachel. Rachel, her tormentor, her voluptuous figure exuding an undeniable aura of command and condescension, her hair a vibrant red, a color of victory and aggression. Rachel, the team captain, a few years older, felt seemingly untouchable. She had bested Jennifer at every turn, each interaction leading to an escalation of her own humiliation, culminating into the ultimate act of vindictive teasing: being forced to strip completely naked in front of an audience of her peers.
But now the world had been tilted on its head. Rachel had been caught red handed bullying poor Jennifer. If Jennifer played her cards right, it would be Rachel stripping at her beck and call.
Coach Burr, a man built like a brick wall and with a face so intimidating that students would choke down their lies before opening their mouths, had appeared, a monumental figure of authority. He gestured both women into his office. His eyes, sharp and dissecting, immediately fixated on the collar. The words, ‘Rachel’s Pet,’ had been all the evidence he needed to understand what had happened.
“As you should both be well aware, hazing is unacceptable at this university,” Coach Burr said with a booming voice. The words were like a hammer smashing into Rachel’s glass house of conceit. The coach hadn’t needed to ask who was responsible: the culprit was written plainly on Jennifer’s neck. He looked Rachel in the eye as he spoke with the authority of a mountain. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Rachel looked down, a rare moment where she was at a loss for words.
Coach Burr turned to Jennifer, his expression unchanged. “And Jennifer, why did you not come to me? You could have told me what was going on. I could have helped. But now you, too, have broken the school rules. Did you not attend the assembly earlier this week? Did we not tell you that this exact behavior was explicitly against school policy?”
“Yes, sir,” Jennifer replied meekly.
Coach Burr then turned his sights back to Rachel, his voice booming. It was said that Coach Burr only had two volumes: loud and very loud. “Rachel, did you not promise to treat your teammates with equity and respect? To uphold the values of this institution in exchange for the responsibility that was entrusted to you?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Rachel murmured as she averted her eyes.
“That being said, I am not without a sense of humor,” Coach Burr laughed. Jennifer and Rachel twitched, his change in demeanor unexpected. “Rachel’s pet, haha. You kids come up with the silliest ways of expressing affection. You know, when I was a kid, when you liked someone, you wrote them an anonymous letter. Oh, you should have seen some of the poetry we came up with. It was something special. Actually, you know, I might have one of them right here.” Jackson rambled on while rummaging through his files. Jennifer and Rachel glanced at each other awkwardly. As Burr began to read some of his prizewinning Vogon-worthy poetry, Jennifer and Rachel reflected on the weight of their sins.
It felt like it would never end, but after some time, the poetry reading, and their suffering, came to an end. “Now I’ve got plenty more where that came from if you’d like to hear some more,” Coach Burr said with a grin. Rachel and Jennifer both shook their heads violently. “Oh, fine, I guess there's no accounting for taste." Coach Burr shook his head, a tear in his eye. "Oh, I must say, you two DO make an adorable couple." He sighed. "If only you could express it without breaking school rules that I didn't even know existed until last week,” he mused wistfully.
It was Jennifer’s voice that broke the silence first. “Coach, we’re not – I’m not – err –”
“Hey, you’ve got the wrong idea–” Rachel stammered.
“But I digress, ladies,” Coach Burr interrupted, “I should get back to the topic at hand. In light of recent events, while I am technically supposed to suspend anyone attending a school function in such inappropriate attire, I think we can all agree that winning the next track meet is far more important, yes?”
Jennifer and Rachel nodded vigorously. The tension in the room relaxed. Rachel breathed with a sigh of relief. It would seem that they had escaped punishment for the moment.
“However," Coach Burr said with a dramatic pause. Rachel held her breath. "While I’m not going to suspend you girls over what appears to me to be a rather harmless prank, I do believe that some punishment is warranted. Now, now, don't fret. I believe this is a very teachable moment for both of you,” he proclaimed.
“Teachable moment?” Jennifer and Rachel asked in unison.
“Jennifer, you can tell me what you think is an appropriate punishment for Rachel’s behavior on Friday. Now get out of my office, the both of ya. I’m already late for the pickleball tournament!” Coach Burr boomed as he shooed them into the hallway.
As they exited Coach Burr’s office, Jennifer turned to Rachel with an incredibly smug look on her face. The sheer weight of what had happened, the sheer amount of power suddenly thrust into her small hands, was overwhelming. Rachel’s fate now belonged to HER. But rather than stay and gloat, Jennifer kept her words short and sweet. “See you at 8:00, red. I’ll text you the deets,” Jennifer grinned wickedly as she walked by Rachel, frozen in time.
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By the time Jennifer made it back to her apartment, the spark of victory had ignited into a steady, determined flame. She had a skip in her step and an overwhelming joy that simply couldn’t be contained. She waited for Rachel inevitable arrival. They both knew that Jennifer held all the cards now.
After some time, there was a light knock on the door. Jennifer could almost hear the nervousness in her knock, so unusual for Rachel, ever confident, cool, and in control. Rachel, for all her bravado, was finally showing some cracks in her armor. Her captaincy, her reputation, her entire athletic career, hung in the balance.
Jennifer opened the door with a wide smile reminiscent of the one Rachel had only a few days before. “I’m glad you could make it on such short notice,” Jennifer teased.
Rachel stood on the threshold, a picture of vibrant defiance. Her red hair, usually styled in voluminous waves, seemed a little flatter today. She wore a red sweater and dark light blue skinny jeans. Her full lips were set in a slightly challenging pout, her green eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, held a flicker of apprehension.
“All right, flash, I'm here. What do you want?” Rachel asked with a shrug in her shoulders, an air of nonchalance. It appeared to Jennifer that she had not yet grasped the gravity of the situation; of the power that she now held. Jennifer closed the door slowly, deliberately, the click echoing in the sudden silence. She turned, her gaze meeting Rachel’s, a sinister smile on her face.
“What I WANT is for you to feel what I felt. I want you to know the sting of humiliation as you strip down and bear your,” Jennifer paused for effect as she looked Rachel up and down, “considerable assets to me.”
Rachel scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “Look, Jennifer, all that was stuff that you asked for. You literally set the terms of the bet. You were the one that insisted the loser streak across the football field. You were the one that insisted the loser resigned from the team. And then you were the one that begged and said you'd do anything to not resign."
Jennifer was stunned for a moment, a quick, clever reply not coming immediately to her. However, she remained steadfast in her desire for vengeance. "You made me strip in front of the team! I never asked for that!"
"It was just some harmless fun between teammates," Rachel replied.
“Harmless fun?” Jennifer repeated, a bitter edge creeping into her voice. “I was humiliated. Repeatedly. I had to streak across a football field. I had to clean your entire apartment, naked, while you stood over me, barking orders and making jokes. And to top it all off, I had to strip in front of all our teammates only wearing a humiliating collar.” Her voice rose slightly, the emotion finally breaking through her controlled facade. “Do you know what that felt like, Rachel? Do you have any idea?”
Rachel shifted uncomfortably, acknowledging that maybe it wasn’t entirely harmless. What had started as a silly prank had perhaps shifted into something a bit more than that. Rachel, ever an empathetic person, felt a slight pang of guilt. She admitted to herself that she hadn't been thinking about Jennifer’s feelings when she agreed to Riley’s amendment. Even she could admit that things had gone too far.
“Okay, when you put it that way, you're right," Rachel said with empathy. "I admit it. I went overboard. I really should have shut down Riley's suggestion. Making you strip in front of the team was way too much. And honestly, I didn't realize how much it upset you. Seriously, I’m sorry, Jen. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for you to get in trouble. That’s why I picked you up in the parking lot after the football game. I've always tried to look out for you. Only I wasn't looking out for you at football practice. I should have been there for you that time. I'm sorry,” Rachel said, her lip trembling with heartfelt apology.
“I don’t think you’re sorry. Not yet,” Jennifer replied.
They stood in silence for a moment. Rachel's apology, though true and sincere, had not been enough to calm the tides of Jennifer's anger. The sting of humiliation, the burning sensation of orgasming in front of her teammates, of presenting herself completely naked, were still fresh in her mind.
“Now listen up. You’re going to do exactly what I tell you to tonight or I’m going to march right into Coach Burr’s office and tell him how everyone would be so much better off if you were off the team.”
Rachel’s eyes widened, her apology falling on deaf ears. “But we're teammates!” she squeaked.
“Strip, girl,” Jennifer said.
“Seriously?” Rachel asked.
“Did I stutter?” Jennifer asked.
Rachel stood frozen, her face slowly flushing a deep, angry red. The reality of her situation began to sink in. She had always been the one in control, the one pulling the strings. It had all begun with a silly bet to humble Jennifer’s attitude, but things had quickly spiraled out of control. Now she found herself at Jennifer’s mercy. Though she admitted the current situation was not entirely unjust, she did regret that she had caused Jennifer such pain earlier that day.
“Is this what you really want?” Rachel asked.
“Sweater,” Jennifer said.
Rachel shrugged. As you wish, she thought. She defiantly twisted her arms and pulled her sweater over her head. Her pride screamed in protest, but her sense of duty propelled her forward. She wordlessly folded her sweater and placed it neatly on the couch. With a frustrated sigh, she began to unbutton her jeans. Her fingers, usually nimble and confident, fumbled slightly against the metal buttons. The pop of the metal clasp seemed to echo loudly in the quiet apartment. Her jeans slid to the floor. She lightly stepped out of them and likewise folded them neatly.
“Shirt,” Jennifer commanded.
Rachel’s gaze dropped to her t-shirt, her face growing hotter. “Having fun?” she asked in a whisper.
“A lot,” Jennifer said cheerfully.
With another shaky sigh, Rachel reached for the hem of her t-shirt. She tugged it up slowly, revealing a toned midriff, then her stomach, the fabric bunching around her ample breasts. Her arms, surprisingly muscular, pulled the shirt up and over, momentarily obscuring her face. When it came down, her hair was slightly disheveled, and her face was even redder, but her forest green eyes met Jennifer’s with defiance. She boldly stood before Jennifer in only her underwear; in contrast, she was not embarrassed of her meticulously sculpted body, though the situation of being forced to strip by her former submissive admittedly made her blush.
The energy in the room shifted as Jennifer took in Rachel’s impressive assets. She was, needless to say, stacked. It was a little intimidating, but Jennifer shook her head and kept her composure. Remember, this is my chance for revenge, Jennifer thought.
“Socks and shoes,” Jennifer said in in a slightly higher note, her voice betraying her intentions.
Rachel bent down, Jennifer’s attention drawn to her metallic, polished red nails. She wrestled her soft fingers with the rough laces of her chunky boots. Finally, the boots came off, followed by her pink, puffy socks. She stood up straight again, her arms hugging her torso protectively.
“Bra,” Jennifer said flatly.
“You sure you don’t want me to remove my panties first, flash?” Rachel asked with a grin.
“Bra,” Jennifer repeated awkwardly. Rachel was not an easy horse to tame.
Rachel blushed as she slowly, reluctantly, reached behind her back. Her dexterous fingers expertly found the clasp and it came undone with a soft click. She pulled it off, her full, round breasts exposed to the cool air of Jennifer’s apartment for the first time. She cradled the bra in her hands for a moment before dropping it in the aforementioned pile of clothes.
Her breathing calmed. Though her face crimson, she was not ashamed. Anyone would be lucky to see her, her breasts full, her stomach toned, her arms muscular, an hourglass figure of elegance and beauty. The red strands of her hair flickered with each breath. Jennifer would not have the satisfaction of domination. Rachel stripped herself bare without complaint.
Her gaze averted, Rachel fingers glided downward towards her waist. Her thumbs hooked into the elastic waistband of her black, silky thong. With a quick, jerky motion, she pulled them down, letting them fall to her ankles, and stepped out of them.
The final prize removed, she stood before Jennifer completely naked.
Rachel’s body was as Jennifer had always known it to be: voluptuous, athletic, strong. Her shoulders were broad, her legs powerful. Even now, in the unforgiving light of Jennifer’s apartment, stripped of every shred of clothing, every minutia of dignity, her body completely exposed, her voluptuous body remained intimidating. Dominating Rachel would require far more than merely stripping her bare.
“Got what you wanted, flash?” Rachel quipped as she stood with her hands on her hips, an odd confidence swaying within her, unperturbed by her newly minted exposure.
“Almost,” Jennifer replied. She reached for her pocket and pulled out a black leather collar. It was identical in shape and material to the one Rachel had made her wear, but the silver engraving shimmered with different words: ‘JENNIFER’S PET’.
Rachel’s eyes widened, then narrowed in fury. “You’re ridiculous,” she hissed.
“It will look cute on you,” Jennifer replied with a jovial grin.
Rachel wanted to protest, but the words died in her throat. She had to admit that it wasn’t entirely unfair. She had, after all, done the same to her. Her jaw tightened as Jennifer approached and, with a gentle but firm hand, fastened the collar around her neck. The cool leather against her skin, the weight of the engraved metal, felt like a brand. She could feel the words pressing against her throat, a declaration of ownership. The irony had a bitter taste to it. This must have been what Jennifer felt.
“Now let’s start with the kitchen,” Jennifer said cheerfully. “You can start by scrubbing the floor,” Jennifer instructed, gesturing vaguely. “And make sure to really put your back into it. I want this floor so clean that it shines my reflection.”
Rachel wordlessly walked past Jennifer and grabbed the cleaning supplies. She crawled down on her hands and knees and got to work. She began to scrub, her movements powerful. It was an exercise she was not unfamiliar. Rachel knew the meaning of hard work.
“You missed a spot, Rachel,” Jennifer said in a familiar tone.
Rachel’s jaw tightened, her cheeks burning. The humiliation of Jennifer echoing her own words back to her was immediate and profound. She stretched and scrubbed harder at a spot that wasn’t even there. The smell of the citrus cleaner filled the air.
Rachel pressed down on the sponge. She scrubbed with a vengeance, determined to make the floor shine so bright that it would be beyond criticism. Despite how degrading it felt, Rachel’s pride remained intact. She knew that she made Jennifer do this and she could take it just as well as she could deal it. She could see Jennifer looking for any small mistake to capitalize on, but Rachel left her nothing to critique. This had not been going the way Jennifer thought it would.
“Floors clean. I’ll get the countertops next,” Rachel said cheerfully, fully committing to her repentance. She moved from the countertops to the sink, then to the stove top.
Jennifer continued her commentary, a soft, purring stream of criticism and instruction, and yet none of it really seemed to stick, as even Jennifer had to admit that everything Rachel touched was as pristine as her silky red hair. No matter how many 'spots' that she claimed Rachel missed, her words failed to evoke the emotions that Jennifer was looking for.
Once the kitchen had been cleaned, they moved to the bathroom. Jennifer led the way, a spring in her step, while Rachel followed, the black collar still sparkling against her pale neck. Jennifer continued to plot her vengeance. Sure, Rachel had cleaned one room while maintaining smug superiority, but eventually she would break. Of this there was no doubt.
The bathroom was small, tiled in cool blues and whites. Jennifer took a seat on some nearby shelving and pulled out her phone. She began to scroll, her finger tapping idly on the screen.
“Alright, Rachel,” Jennifer said, without looking up from her phone. “I want you really scrub those grout lines. Put some elbow grease into it.”
Rachel knelt, the cold tiles biting into her knees and hands. It was an uncomfortable position, but not entirely unfamiliar. Tired, perhaps, but her endurance prevailed. She took a small brush and began to scrub the grout, her body swaying and bubbling uncontrollably with each harsh movement. Cleaning naked was certainly an experience, perhaps more so for her than Jennifer because of her generous proportions, though she refused to give Jennifer the satisfaction of complaint.
After some time, Rachel finished cleaning the bathroom. She pushed herself up, her knees stiff, and followed Jennifer into the living room, a space filled with comfortable furniture and shelves crammed with books and personal mementos. “The shelves, Rachel,” Jennifer announced, pointing towards a tall, built-in bookshelf. “Make sure you get the top, and don’t mind the stretch,” Jennifer teased.
Rachel grinned at the memory. She remembered. She had made Jennifer stand on tiptoes, stretching her petite frame to its limit, her cute little butt clenched. Being much taller, she would not have to stretch so much, though Jennifer would admittedly have quite the view.
She took the feather duster and worked swiftly. She started with the lower shelves and worked her way up. As she moved upwards, she had to stretch, her lithe body elongating, her arms reaching above her head. The collar around her neck felt heavy, pulling at her as she extended. Her breasts, full and heavy, swayed slightly with each upward reach. She blushed and hoped Jennifer was enjoying the show.
Jennifer sat comfortably on the sofa, watching her, a satisfied gleam in her eyes. She wasn’t looking at her phone this time; she was watching intently. She felt an uncomfortable tingling down below. The feeling reminded her of a certain device.
Rachel gritted her teeth as she swiped away every last speck of dust. The stretch was uncomfortable, her ass leaving nothing to Jennifer’s imagination, her every curve and wrinkle revealed. She turned around and faced Jennifer with a relaxed shrug.
“Anything else?” Rachel asked.
Jennifer was annoyed. This was not going as planned. No matter how hard she tried to humiliate Rachel, she kept her smug attitude. Sure, she had blushed. She was clearly a little embarrassed, yet she was obviously not experiencing what Jennifer had. Jennifer had to do something. She had to reassert her dominance. She had to show Rachel that she owned her now.
“Not even close,” Jennifer hissed. Jennifer took Rachel’s arm, her grip surprisingly firm, and led her into the bedroom. Rachel followed passively, her eyes open with curiosity. The bedroom was softly lit, the curtains drawn, creating an almost intimate atmosphere.
“Sit,” Jennifer commanded, gesturing to the edge of the bed, and Rachel obediently climbed onto the bed. Jennifer then picked up a length of thin, durable rope from her bedside table. “Put your hands behind your head, Rachel,” Jennifer instructed, her voice calm, but with an unyielding steel to it.
“You know how to use that, tiger?” Rachel quipped.
“Of course I do. Just put your hands behind your head,” Jennifer repeated, though her voice betrayed her with just a hint of nervousness as it raised another octave.
Rachel complied silently, her arms raising, her hands clasping the back of her head, her elbows flared out. The pose stretched her chest, making her breasts appear fuller, more prominent. Rachel observed Jennifer silently as she worked, twisting and tying, crawling back and forth to find a better angle, to get the rope just right. She actually found Jennifer’s dedication to her newfound role of dominant to be a little cute.
Jennifer moved swiftly behind her and tied Rachel’s wrists together with the rope. It was tight, but there was slack in the rope. Jennifer did at least appear to have some idea of what she was doing as checked to make sure Rachel was comfortable. Rachel’s circulation remained intact. Once her wrists were secure, Jennifer fastened the rope to a small, sturdy notch on the wall, a place Jennifer had perhaps once hung some sort of painting or portrait. Rachel was now tethered, her arms pulled back and slightly upwards, leaving her chest thrust forward, her body entirely exposed.
“Now, Rachel,” Jennifer said, her voice slow and deliberate, “I want you to arch your back. Really push your chest out. We can take a photo so you can remember how you got here.”
“Like this, flash?” Rachel said in a sultry voice as she extended her back, pushing her magnificent chest out like the crowned jewel that it was, her eyes meeting Jennifer’s with a deep undercurrent of sexual tension.
Jennifer stared dumbfounded. Rachel was completely unmoved. And she looked... incredible.
"Um, yeah...” Jennifer squeaked. “That’s...” Jennifer paused, trying to find the words. “...yeah,” she repeated. “Now how does that feel, Rachel? How does it feel to be humiliated and exposed?” Jennifer taunted as she took out her phone to snap a photo.
“Hey, Jennifer, can I ask you something real quick?” Rachel asked calmly.
“What?” Jennifer replied, taken aback, nervously dropping her phone onto the mattress without taking a picture.
“Will you just shut up and kiss me?” Rachel replied.
...some hours later, Jennifer nestled in Rachel’s powerful arms fast asleep. Rachel gently stroked her pretty blonde hair. “Such a good girl,” she whispered. “But we’ll have to about your punishment when you wake up.”
