Coach Trip

I was just sitting at my desk minding my own business. Literally. I own and run a bus company. I have a couple of dozen coaches. Most of them are on regular routes but I have a few that I lease out for excursions.

The local college is quite a good customer. They do have their own school bus but sometimes they have teams going in different directions and that's when they give me a call. They actually had one of my coaches right then. The netball team had booked the school bus and suddenly they needed an extra bus for the football team who had arranged a practice game.

Well, I was sitting there, fat and happy, as all my buses were out and running, and then the phone rang. My secretary picked it up and then transferred it to me.

"Dean Samuels," she told me.

"Dean Samuels," I said. "How can I help you?"

"Ah, Mr Bailey," he said, "we've run into a slight problem. Your driver has had an accident and has broken his arm. He's on the way to hospital now, but we need another driver. We're due to leave immediately."

OK. I could sympathise with Mike and his broken arm but there was nothing I could do about it. I'd have to get a full report on the incident but that could wait. Right now I needed a driver. I ran through the list and found I didn't have any more drivers on immediate call.

Well, management decision time. I was licensed and occasionally drove and this was an emergency. And I'd get in to see the football free.

"Hmm. It seems I don't have another driver immediately available, Dean Samuels," I said, "but as it's for the college I'll come over and drive myself. I'll be there within half an hour."

Mutual kissing and we both signed off. Dean Samuels was happy that we were bending over to help him and I was happy to get out of the office for a while with the prospect of a game to watch.

I left my secretary to hold the fort for me, giving her instructions to find out what happened to Mike. I wanted that report available as soon as I got back. The Health & Safety guys are lethal and you have to be ready to face them.

As promised I was at the college within the half hour. To find that the football team had not waited for me. As their need was immediate, they'd hijacked the school bus and gone. Suddenly, I was going to be driving a bloody netball team for a couple of days.

Fortunately, the netball coach had organised the players and got the luggage stowed. All I had to do was get in and drive.

What a joke. There was luggage and equipment lying all over the place. What looked like a hundred yacking women were in the bus, out the bus, running around and getting in each other's way.

I looked around for the coach or whoever was running the show. No older woman appeared to stand out from the crowd. I tried to politely attract the attention of a couple of the young ladies to find out what was going on, only to get the brush off. OK. I could handle that.

I hopped on the coach, turned up the audio loud and snapped "Everyone sit down and shut up". When that came booming over the speakers the girls did shut up for a few moments. I took advantage to ask who was in charge.

This pretty young thing put her hand up.

"Ah, that would be me," she said. "I've been asked to go along with the team, seeing the coach has been hurt."

"What happened to the coach?" I asked.

Someone sniggered. "Your driver," said a voice.

I turned a lethal gaze on the girl who spoke and she coloured and backed up a little.

"Ah, your driver tripped over and crashed into her. They've both gone to hospital. Your driver has a broken arm and Coach has a badly sprained ankle," she explained quickly.

"I see." I turned to the teacher and asked what the hell was going on.

That's when it was explained to me that the football team had taken the school bus and I had inherited the netball team.

"Alright. Have the girls get their gear and line up next to the baggage compartments so that I can stow it."

For the next five minutes I watched the teacher trying to round up the girls and get them moving. When Coach turned on the girls it was like watching a trained sheepdog working a flock. Watching this woman I got the distinct impression of a sheep trying to round up a pack of sheepdogs. As useful as tits on a bull, that woman. It wasn't working. So I stepped in.

I borrowed the teachers whistle, gave a hard blast and started sorting them out. The women all lined up with their luggage and I stowed it. I directed all girls except the captain and vice to get on the bus, sit down and try to shut up. The captain and vice were directed to get the team's equipment together and help me get it stored.

With that all organised I asked for the passenger list, checking off that everyone was accounted for and that there were no extras. For a netball team of seven plus coach it was surprising that I had twenty four passengers all told. But they were all on the list and that was all I had to worry about.

One of the little innovations I implemented with college passenger lists was to make sure I had the ages of all passengers. If I was travelling with minors I wanted to bloody well know it, and see the authorisations signed by parents. I was lucky this time. All of them were theoretically adult.

Finally we were off. The charter was quite simple. Drive to the motel that had been booked. Have a light meal. Drive to the game. After the game, back to the motel to stay the night. Home next day. A nice easy run, even if there wasn't a football match at the end of it.

A nice easy run. Another joke on me. I hadn't even left the city limits before I found I was driving the bus from hell. Mike didn't trip and break his arm. He probably found out he was driving the netball team and deliberately threw himself down the stairs. And I couldn't blame him.

The girls sang songs. The girls chattered. The girls argued, loudly. The girls were constantly changing seats. And they were doing all this all at the same time. Wendy, the teacher who was supposed to be instilling a little decorum in the group, huddled in the front seat of the bus and pretended not to notice what was going on. A few hints from me that she should quieten the girls down were carefully ignored.

A couple of times I got on the mike and demanded they cool it a little, after which there'd be a time of relative quiet, but it didn't last. It soon became obvious to me that there was one young woman, a redhead, who was deliberately stirring up trouble. I saw the captain and vice-captain both speak to her at different times, but she would just smile sweetly and shrug as though none of it was her fault.

A little power struggle going on I surmised. Maybe the redhead wanted the captaincy or something. I took time to ask them to settle down, please. I finished up with a daddy's threat to the kids.

"You don't want me to stop the bus," I told them. "You wouldn't like it if I have to stop the bus."

This was met with derisive laughter, as expected, but the noise level did drop considerably for a while.

We left the city behind. I was barrelling straight down this nice long stretch of freeway when the girls tossed me the straw that broke the camel's back. This particular straw was in a bloody haystack.

Redhead has been fomenting more trouble and a blazing row broke out between her and another girl. Before I could tell them to sit down and shut up they actually started to brawl. Seriously. Redhead jumped the other girl and they were scratching and yelling and pulling hair.

I was already slowing down to pull over, which was fortunate, because the girls lost their footing and came tumbling into the driver's area, cannoning into me. I fended them off and they quickly scrambled out of the way. I pulled over and I was livid.

I stood up and just looked at the whole crew.

"I said that you wouldn't like it if I had to stop the bus," I said quietly, but they all heard me. They were all cringing in their seats like mice who had spotted the cat. Except for redhead and her victim who were sprawled on the floor at my feet.

I toed the nearest girl, telling them to get up.

"You," I told the victim. "Take your seat."

"You," speaking to the redhead. "Back of the bus."

There was a bench seat right across the back of the bus, currently occupied by three young ladies. I indicated that they should find other seats.

"You," I said, continuing to speak to the redhead, "damn near caused a crash that could have killed a number of us. You've been nothing but trouble since you've got on the bus, and probably before that. Now I happen to know that your school still had corporal punishment in its rules and regulations, so you may consider this as just me following those rules and regulations."

Before redhead and worked out what I meant I'd taken a seat next to her and yanked her across my knee. A quick flick pushed her skirt out of the way and exposed a very pert little tush in lace lined panties. My first spank landed before redhead had a chance to protest. After that she was too busy wriggling and squealing to protest.

I didn't beat the girl. Well, I suppose I did, but it was a carefully controlled beating. There would be no marks to show apart from a touch of redness that would fade quite quickly. But the spanking undoubtedly stung and the embarrassment probably stung even more.

Tossing her back onto the seat I informed her that she would remain on that seat for the rest of the time she was on the bus. And she would shut up.

Returning to the front of the bus I laid it on the line. Either they calmed down and acted like normal people or I'd turn around and deliver them back to the college. I pointed out it wouldn't worry me either way. I still got paid.

There was a dead silence for a moment and then the Captain stood up and apologised. Quite handsomely, too. I could see she was trying not to laugh but her eyes kept flicking towards the back seat where redhead was sitting, fulminating.

From that point on it was an enjoyable trip. We reached the motel early and the team had time to get in some swimming, a useful way of beating the heat.

There was one interesting incident while we were at the motel. While the young ladies were swimming, Wendy came to see me. She dithered for a while, trying to make a complaint without it seeming that she was making a complaint.

I finally worked out that what she was getting at was that she thought that I had over-stepped my authority in disciplining the redhead. Well I had. I'll admit it. And I didn't care. Someone had to do something.

"You're quite right," I told her. "But you under-stepped your authority by not putting the kybosh on those idiots before things blew up the way they did. You need to show a little more backbone or those young ladies are just going to trample you underfoot. If you'd stopped the nonsense before it got too fat out of hand I wouldn't have had to spank that brat."

"That brat is Christine, Dean Samuels' daughter," Wendy pointed out.

"Then knowing Dean Samuels, he'll be grateful that I pulled her into line," I said. "As far as I'm concerned she got just what she deserved. You know, speaking of getting what they deserve, I think I'll give you something to help stiffen your spine."

Reaching over I grabbed Wendy by the arm, yanked her to her feet and pushed her so she was bent over the table.

"What do you think you're doing," she said with a yelp.

"It's quite simple," I told her. "What I'm going to do is show you what a spanking feels like so you know what Christine went through. Hopefully, knowing I'm capable of spanking you in front of the team may make you try a little harder to control them."

Not having an audience this time, I had no hesitation in pulling down Wendy's panties. She squeaked with indignation but didn't put up any sort of a struggle. She didn't even try the old line "don't you dare". Wendy gave a small yelp when the first spank landed, and then seemed as though she was going to panic a little when my hand drifted across her pussy after landing on her bottom.

"Don't touch me there," she yelped. "You're not going to r-rape me are you?"

"Don't worry about being ravished," I told her. "Worry about the beating your bottom is going to get."

Rape her indeed. The thought had never crossed my mind.

I proceeded to give her a nice little spanking. For some reason, maybe the way I was standing, my hand seemed to slide down her bottom and across her mound after each spank. Wendy would give heart-wrenching little wails when my hand landed then shiver and wriggle a little as my hand brushed her mound.

The problem with a spanking is when is enough, enough? Wendy's bottom was glowing brightly when I put the question to her.

"You're bottom looks quite tender right now. I'm feeling generous so if you like you can go and kneel on the bed on all fours, head on your arms, bottom high or we can continue with the spanking."

Wendy didn't even hesitate. She was across to the bed in a flash, head resting on her folded arms, knees spread and her bottom held high. She was also, I noticed, looking into the dressing table mirror.

I stood where she could see me in the mirror and stripped. Very soon I was standing there, big, hairy and naked, with an erection standing out to there.

I climbed onto the bed behind Wendy, and I could see her eyes tracking me. Or tracking my erection, anyway. I moved between her legs and, lining up with her slit, I eased forward until my cock was pushing lightly against her.

I paused, giving her a chance to change her mind, but Wendy didn't let out a peep. She just seemed to take a big breath and hold it. I wondered how long she'd hold it if I didn't do anything. Deciding that would just be sadistic I dismissed the thought and pushed forward.

The spanking had warmed Wendy up nicely. She was hot and wet and pushing back against me just as hard as I was pushing into her. I was watching her in the mirror and saw her eyes flare wide as I pushed roughly into her, while she noisily released the breath she'd been holding.

Seeing that Wendy had opted for this in lieu of the spanking it was up to me to see she wasn't disappointed. I drove in hard, but even while doing that I was pushing her top clothes out of the way so that I could get my hands on her breasts. With that accomplished I started working on Wendy even harder, playing her body like a fine musical instrument.

I pleasured her slowly while stroking her breasts to full awareness. I pleasured her hard and fast while mauling her breasts. I switched methods, going from gentle to rough to gentle. Wendy didn't know from one moment to the next what was going to happen, but she squealed and yipped and went with it, pushing herself hard against me each time I drove into her.

Before I was finished, Wendy was literally panting and whimpering, pleading for me to take her and to take her hard. It was my pleasure to do so.

Then I was moving up towards my climax and I just let everything go. I plunged into Wendy hard and fast, doing my best to lift her to that point she needed to reach.

I ejaculated. Hard and deep within Wendy. She squealed and quivered and latched onto my cock as though it was a life preserver. She squeezed me tight while her own climax sent shivers racing through her.

We showered together and then Wendy went out to round up everyone for dinner. After dinner we were off to the local college's gym hall for the game. It wasn't a bad game. Very close the entire time. I thought we were unlucky with a couple of umpiring decisions but that's natural, I suppose. The upshot was we lost. Not by much, but lost. I suspect that if they'd had their proper coach they'd have won, but that the way things go at times.

Christine, I noticed, had recovered her taste for mischief and was starting to act up again. I had a quiet word with Wendy.

"Tell Christine to come and see me first thing in the morning," I said. "I'm going to lay down the law to her regarding the trip home. Unless you care to do it?"

Wendy shuddered and said she'd let me have the honour. That didn't really surprise me. We all settled down for the night. I left my door unlocked, hoping that Wendy might sneak over, but no luck there. She was, I suspect, trying to set an example. I went to sleep.

FIVE FRIGGING THIRTY. Would you believe it? Five thirty and someone was knocking on my door. I snarled my way out of bed and opened the door. Christine was standing there, looking as though butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. She was wearing shorty pyjamas and a flimsy thing that could be considered a dressing gown.

"What?" I said with great restraint.

"Miss Anders said I had to come and see you first thing this morning," Christine said, pushing past me and into the unit.

"Miss Anders?" I thought and then it twigged. Wendy.

"And you think five thirty is the correct time to keep that appointment?" I said, and it's a wonder the air didn't turn blue with what I was thinking.

"Well, I can't be much earlier, now can I," said Christine, almost singing it she was feeling so happy she'd put one over on me. "Now, what was it you wanted?"

I looked Christine over. I wondered if she knew just how revealing that outfit was. She probably thought it gave a teasing idea of what was under it but actually it was flimsy enough for me to be able to make out both her fur and the darker circles of her nipples.

"I wanted to discuss your attitude and how it will affect us on the trip home," I told her. "I'm sure we both want to avoid another little incident where I might feel compelled to discipline you."

"Assault me, you mean," flared Christine. It was apparent that the mild spanking still rankled. "What do you think my father will say when I tell him about it?"

"Probably congratulate me for standing up to your nasty bullying tactics," I told her. "You can tell him I'm quite willing to repeat the spanking so he can judge for himself."

I got quite a furious look for that statement. She wanted to tell me that I wouldn't dare, but that would have fallen slightly flat seeing I already had dared once.

"The way I see it," I told Christine, keeping my voice firm and cold, "I have three options. I can trust you to behave yourself and if you don't, put you across my knee again. If I do that, I'll be spanking your bare bottom in front of the whole team, and it will be a proper spanking. Not a mild pat like the first time.

Second option, I can assume that you won't behave and pack you off home in a hired car, letting the college pick up the bill, which they will undoubtedly pass on to you.

Third option, I can put you across my knee here and now and paddle some sense into you. Your bottom will be too sore once I've finished for you to get any ideas about causing trouble."

I gave her a nasty smile.

"Option three is the one I'm leaning towards, especially with you undressed like that."

I deliberately looked up and down her body, giving the impression I was looking right through her clothes. Interestingly enough her nipples puckered up.

"Yes, you'd like that last bit wouldn't you. You'd probably finish up raping me and say I wanted it."

I ran my eyes over her again and laughed.

"Don't get your hopes up, kid," I said dismissively. "Not going to happen."

Christine looked indignant. It was one thing to say a man can't have her. It was something else for a man to just dismiss what she had as though it wasn't good enough.

"Why not?" she demanded. "If you pulled down my pants to spank me I'll damn well bet you'll want to take me."

"I'll wait until you grow up a bit," I said, waving the whole idea away. "You're still a kid and not ready for a mature man. Stick with your friends. I'm sure they'll keep you happy."

"Are you saying I sleep around?" Christine hissed at me.