Cocky Shot_The Dartmouth Cobras_An Off Ice Novella

by Bianca Sommerland

  “Posting us naked online is a bit more than a prank.” Vanek paled as Callahan’s gaze turned to him. “Luke cut their stupid laces, so they tried to get us back. Putting Luke on a billboard, throwing a college party at my house, spreading the rumor that Scott was being traded to Europe somewhere.”

  “We only did the billboard thing.” Richards rubbed his thighs. “Was still dumb, but we should have been even. You didn’t have to put itching powder in our clothes. That got us in a lot of shit.”

  Vanek snorted and shook his head. “You’re a fucking liar.”

  “Why would I lie about us getting in trouble? We were caught on camera taking off our shirts in front of kids and the media went nuts!”

  “My house is supposed to be safe! So is Scott’s!”

  “We didn’t do that!”

  “Stop.” Callahan held up a hand, then rolled his eyes. “The billboard thing has just been settled. And we know who was responsible.” His lips thinned as he glanced over at Dave. “The party and the fake report both led to a disgruntled player who was cut early from tryouts. He’s under investigation for stalking and harassment. Making assumptions led to all of you behaving recklessly. That video being online is creating a serious PR problem for the team.”

  He paced the room, raking his fingers through his thick, black hair, stopping to stare out the window.

  “The video was sold by a man who worked in room service, who’d been planning to quit. He’d heard the media was looking for good stories about all of you, considering recent drama. The money probably won’t look as good after he’s fined by the hotel for breach of contract.” He turned, leaning against the window, his eyes on Heath. “Your phone will be returned to you. With the video removed. The question is, what exactly were you planning to do with the video?”

  Paling, Heath dropped his gaze to his hands, fisted on his knees.

  Dave cleared his throat. “It was my plan. I was going to play it on the screen when we were reviewing all our pictures for this weekend. Ladd didn’t know. I just borrowed his phone.”

  “I see.” Callahan’s expression hardened as Carter let out a badly muffled snort. “What’s so funny?”

  Carter shook his head, his face reddening as he visibly fought back laughter. “I’m just picturing it. Us sitting there, ready for a long, boring viewing of all the pictures, and instead a video pops up of us with our dicks swinging. Woulda been shut off after one shot of our cocks, but everyone watching would lose it!” His eyes were filling with tears now. “I can’t…that woulda been a good one, Hunt. Fucking props.”

  “Ah…thanks?” Dave bit hard into his cheek, finding it hard not to laugh himself just watching Luke struggle.

  One look from Callahan made the situation less funny. No way would the assistant coach just laugh it off.

  “You’ll all be fined. And you’ll be missing the first two games of the pre-season. On paper, that should be enough since rumors of the pranks have remained just that. Rumors.” Callahan surveyed the room, waiting for them each to nod. “I don’t think a standard penalization is enough.”

  “Shit.” Tyler leaned back into his chair when Callahan arched a brow at him. “Umm…sorry, coach.”

  This time, Callahan smiled. And it was fucking terrifying. “Oh, you will be. You’re all either part of the BDSM lifestyle, or beginning to explore it. Since you won’t be starting the pre-season with the team, you’ll have plenty of time to recover. I’ve cleared this with your significant others. And your guardian.” Callahan regarded Heath. “He wasn’t happy, but he agrees your old enough to decide for yourself.”

  “Decide what? What the fuck do you mean, recover?” Dave stood, resisting the urge to punch the other man. Callahan had taught him a lot. Including some self-control. But he was testing it now.

  “Careful, Hunt. You won’t be forced to do anything, and your participation won’t affect my report to management, but I won’t tolerate disrespect.” Callahan met his eyes and seemed satisfied with whatever he saw in them. His lips curved slightly. “I’ll leave it to you to pick one person from each of your trios to serve the punishment. You will all be present for it.”

  “This is ridiculous.” Demyan rose from the chair closest to the door. His jaw hardened as he stepped up to Dave’s side, as though they were some kind of united front. His tone was amused as he met the coach’s eyes. “What are you going to do, spank us?”

  “Close enough.” Callahan let out a low laugh that made all the hairs on the back of Dave’s neck rise. “Some humiliation is worth it for the sake of team unity, don’t you think?”

  Long after the assistant coach had left, none of them moved. Dave was pretty sure no one even breathed.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  He cleared his throat and glanced over at Demyan. “He’s joking, right?”

  Demyan shook his head slowly. “I don’t think he is.”

  Chapter 6

  Blades & Ice, the BDSM club owned by the team’s GM, Dean Richter, had always been an exciting place to visit. Scott loved coming here with Zach and Becky, watching the two scene, the beauty in the way Zach made Becky feel so much when she submitted to him. After a session, whether it be with restraints and a heavy flogger, or the chemical play Zach was learning from Pisch, Becky always looked so relaxed.

  Even when he couldn’t participate, couldn’t share that intense dynamic his lovers shared, he enjoyed being close to them. Feeling the heady energy coming off Zach. Sensing the moment Becky let go of the tension and stress that always built up from her work.

  He didn’t consider himself submissive, but he let Zach take control of him too sometimes. Not too often, Zach liked edging a bit more than he did…all right, a lot more than he did. Still, his man was truly in his element when he let the dominant in him loose. He’d shown Scott how much an edge of pain could sharpen pleasure, the connection they shared when Scott trusted him enough to be restrained.

  With the sun shining through the part in the black curtains and the regular crowd absent, Scott had a feeling he wasn’t getting into that zone today. He inhaled the light scent of pine cleaner as he headed over to the bar, ducking behind the sleekly polished dark wood surface to help himself to a beer from the fridge. It was almost five o’clock. One wouldn’t hurt.

  “Let me do this, Scott.” Luke pulled out a stool at the other side of the bar, then leaned forward, brow creased with concern. “I like pain.”

  “But not humiliation.” Scott popped the cap off the beer and took a few steadying gulps of the cold, dark brew which had a malty, toffee flavor he’d come to love. He set the bottle on the table and rolled it between his hands, letting the condensation wet his dry palms. “I’ve got this.”

  He wouldn’t explain why, Luke would just argue with him until one of them was chained to the Saint Andrew’s Cross. And likely keep arguing with him during and after. He wasn’t called ‘The Mouth’ for nothing.

  Whether Luke agreed or not, Scott was responsible for how far things had gone. If he’d told his buddies to stop sooner, they would have. If he hadn’t been so pissed himself, he could’ve calmed the men down and confronted the rookies. Cleared the air.

  Instead, he’d acted like a rookie himself and made things worse.

  To top it off—not like he’d ever admit it—but he wanted the punishment. Becky always said she felt like she’d been given a clean slate once it was over. He needed that. He needed both her and Zach to see he got it. He’d fucked up and he would face the consequences.

  He smiled as he thought of the conversation he’d had on the phone with Zach on the way here.

  “You know, if you wanted to be spanked that badly, I would have done it.” Zach’s tone held amusement, but there was a strain to it. He was trying too hard to keep the mood light. “I still might.”

  “Ha ha.” Scott swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I’ve been an idiot.”

  “Yes.” Zach went quiet for a bit. Cleared his throat. “You know you have a choice, rig
ht? All of you do. You could just take the fine, do some extra charity work. Hell, invite the rookies, it’ll be good for them.”

  “It will. I planned to suggest that anyway.”

  “But first you’re going to let Callahan punish you?”

  “Yeah…” Scott sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I know it probably sounds stupid, but we’re more than a team. I’ve worked hard over the years to earn back the respect I’d lost by fucking up so bad in the beginning. I’m not losing it again by punking out.”

  “He won’t be gentle.”

  “I know.”

  “And who’s handling the kid?”

  “Chicklet.”

  “Oy…okay, then you got off easy.” Zach let out a soft chuckle. “Poor guy.”

  “I won’t be telling Callahan you said that.” Scott looked up as Luke parked behind the club. The doors had been left unlocked for them by one of the bouncers, who’d return when they were finished. “We’re here. I love you, and I’ll see you in a bit.”

  He could hear the smile in Zach’s tone. “I love you too. And, Scott, I want you to remember something, every second you’re bound and in pain and ready to use your safeword…” Zach paused, his voice rough, but didn’t wait for Scott to respond. “Use it if you need to. I’m already so fucking proud of you. And I respect you. So does the team. Do this because you need to. Not for anyone else.”

  He was. Which was why he handed the rest of his beer to Luke as the rookies filed into the club, looking around like they’d never seen the place before. Which might actually be true for Ladd.

  Why the hell did Mason let him come?

  Not that it mattered. The kid was over eighteen. And he had every right to be here.

  They were in this together.

  “Hey, you guys want a drink?” Luke called out, holding up his bottle.

  All three rookies shook their heads.

  Luke shrugged.

  Tyler came into the club, Chicklet behind him. He looked much more relaxed than he had before, even smiling up at Chicklet and nodding at whatever she said. His Mistress was tough, but fair, and they’d probably discussed everything that had gone down.

  Which was good. Maybe she’d leave the rookie she was punishing in one piece.

  Callahan followed a moment later and Scott swallowed hard. He didn’t have any illusions on how Callahan would handle him. He’d known the man for years and being friends with a sadist meant a deep understanding of how their minds worked.

  The assistant coach wouldn’t leave any permanent damage, but Scott likely wouldn’t be able to sit comfortably for a week.

  “Let’s get this over with, I’m losing time with my son.” Callahan headed over to the rack of impact play tools lined up on the wall at the other end of the bar. Scott was pretty sure those were for decoration, but Callahan didn’t hesitate to grab a paddle, a cane, and a switch. He laid them out on the bar, waving the rookies over. “You’ll both be getting the same number of strikes, with the same implement. What will it be?”

  “Might I suggest the cane?” Chicklet stroked Tyler’s hair, her lips curving into a slow, evil smile. “I’ll even cut it down to five sets of five. I haven’t played with one in a while.”

  “That sounds reasonable.” Callahan grinned as Scott tugged at his collar. “You game?”

  “I can take whatever, but Demyan’s not used to this.” Hunt leaned against the edge of the bar, arms folded over his chest, refusing to look at anyone. “The paddle is easier.”

  “It is. Which is why you’ll get fifty if you choose that.” Chicklet leaned closer to Callahan. “Is it horrible that I’m enjoying this?”

  Callahan chuckled. “Not at all. We’re not the ones being punished.”

  All right, that’s enough. Scott appreciated Hunt looking out for him, the young man wasn’t the asshole he’d taken him for, but the Dom and the Domme were having too much fun at their expense. He was done.

  Scowling, Scott grabbed the cane and handed it to Callahan. “I don’t need you to take it easy on me. And I’d like to get home to my own family.”

  “Good.” Callahan took the cane, a thin length of Delrin with a black, braided leather handle, and started toward the two Saint Andrew’s Crosses, which had been moved closer together. “Then strip.”

  “Strip?”

  “Yes. This won’t be very effective through your jeans, Demyan.”

  Fuck. He’d wondered when this being a ‘spanking’ would come in.

  Looked like he had his answer.

  Strip?

  Dave watched Demyan as the other man pulled off his dark blue T-shirt and handed it to Tyler. He was already undoing his jeans before Dave’s brain caught up. This was actually happening. Not only were they gonna get punished like a couple of kids—at least it wasn’t a belt—but they were doing it naked.

  “You sure you don’t want me to—”

  “No.” Dave cut Richards off before he could finish, then shook his head at Heath as his lips parted. “And hell no. You’re never even been part of a scene. Being curious isn’t the same. I’ve already done…stuff.”

  “With a whip?” Heath licked his lips, staring at the Saint Andrew’s Cross as though trying to figure out how it was used for torture. “On that?”

  “No, I was in chains. Which was interesting. Callahan needed space to work the bullwhip.” Dave pictured the scene, which he’d actually enjoyed. The assistant coach had shown him how to use the whip and given him a taste of how it felt on his skin. Handled right, it didn’t draw blood unless that was what the Top and bottom had agreed on. Callahan was his mentor and they’d negotiated beforehand, so the whip cut Dave twice. Not deep, but enough for him to know what it felt like if he lost control and wrapped the whip around his target.

  The pain hadn’t been his thing, but he got a nice buzz after. What he enjoyed was the confidence he gained every time he learned something new from the older man. The knowledge that he’d someday be the one wielding the whip.

  Being the one to dole out punishments was less appealing.

  At least he already knew he could take it.

  “Here. Hold on to this for me.” Dave pulled off his shirt, then tossed it to Heath. His lips slanted as the younger man blushed and bent down to retrieve it from the floor. “You sure you want to see this?”

  Heath nodded, then his face reddened even more. “I’m good.”

  And we’re back to short answers. Dave shook his head, reaching out to squeeze Heath’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here. Both of you.” He glanced over at Richards. “Even though this will be weird.”

  “I got a copy of my stripping video if you want to watch. Make it even?” Richards grinned as Dave shook his head. “Well, the offers there if you change your mind. Seriously, though, I’ve seen you naked in the showers. This is no different.”

  “It’s a little different.” Heath muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

  Shoving Heath’s shoulder, Dave laughed. “Cheer up, Oz. You’ll still be able to sit when this is over.”

  “Oh, piss off.” Heath’s accent thickened with irritation. “Why wouldn’t you be able to—”

  “Because I’m not gentle, pet.” Chicklet touched Heath’s shoulder, moving her hand the second caught him tense. She studied him for a moment, but thankfully didn’t dwell on Heath’s reaction. An observant Domme, she simply turned her attention to Dave. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.” Dave inhaled roughly, smiled at Heath, then Richards, and quickly took off his jeans. He handed them to Richards, who seemed less likely to drop them and smash his phone. Then he met the other man’s eyes, speaking low so only he could hear. “Watch him.”

  Richards inclined his head. “On it.”

  The club wasn’t cold, but a chill still crept over Dave as he faced the cross. At Chicklet’s command, he positioned his wrist and ankles, holding still as she used a soft rope to restrain him. Having his dick just under the smooth wood V of the cross’s legs was awkward, bu
t not nearly as much as having his ass exposed.

  His spine stiffened as he sensed Chicklet moving closer, but she simply ran her fingers lightly along his shoulder blades.

  “Your safeword is red. Feel free to use it now if you need to.” She settled her hand on his shoulder and stood at his side, not speaking again until he looked at her. “Either way, I need a verbal response. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” His voice was hoarse. Hardly audible. He cleared his throat. “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Good boy.” Her heels clicked softly on the wood floor as she moved out of sight. “I won’t ask you to count for me, but you may if it helps you get through this. I’ll pause halfway to check on you, all right?”

  “Thank you, Mistress.”

  “Mmm, I like the sound of you saying that. A shame the only time I’ll get to play with you is for punishment. I believe you’ll be at the other end of the cane before long.” She let out a soft laugh. Then tapped his thigh with the cane. “Let’s begin.”

  A sharp strike and Dave’s whole body jerked. The slash of pain flared with heat. Before he could brace himself, the cane connected again. And again. Always the same strength. Never the same place.

  But the heat, the throb, the bite, traveled over each mark, keeping the pain fresh. Spread out. He hissed in air through his teeth, pressing his sweaty forehead against his arm, trying to keep track of how many strikes he’d gotten so far.

  Five? Maybe ten? A cool rush glided up his spine and he shivered as that sweet buzz of adrenaline gave him some relief from the pulsing ache. Letting his wrist hang in the restraints, he settled against the cross, his breaths slowing.

  He didn’t even notice the strikes had stopped until Chicklet tipped his chin up with a fingertip.

  “That was thirteen. You have twelve left.” She met his eyes, hers intensely focused. “How are you?”

  Accessing his own condition was difficult, but he’d been in this position before. Only…not naked.