By BristolBound
*This BDSM fantasy is a work of fiction. All characters are adults*
Chapter 1: Half Time
I’d like to say I saw it coming. I’m a clever lad, I’m on track for a 2:1 and have a reputation for quick banter, and I still managed to talk myself into the most humiliating hour of my life so far with one badly judged joke.
We were 1-1 against Durham at half time, and the changing room smelled like it always does: Deep Heat, wet grass, and eleven guys’ worth of sweat soaking into the walls. It was one of those old pavilion rooms, long and echoey, with benches round the edge and a steel support pole bang in the middle, floor to ceiling, painted the same institutional green as everything else. Somebody’s kit bag was hanging off a hook, and a couple of spare hockey sticks were resting on the benches.
Callum, our captain, had pulled me off with ten minutes to go before the break. My touch had gone to shit, he was right, and I knew it. “Second half you’re out, Eric,” he said, not unkindly. “Go and warm down in the shower. We’ll talk tactics.”