Hit Me Serve Me: a teen volleyball bdsm love story

By Katie Sweet

Carli is looking forward to the end of her senior year, and the success of her girls' volleyball team.

One day after a sweaty practice she simultaneously realizes her erotic passion for her fiery-maned teammate Lisa and her desire to be controlled and used sexually by their broad-shouldered, grey-stubbled coach.

Carli samples them both before being forced to make a decision that will affect her whole life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Katie Sweet
• Release date: Apr 16, 2019
• ISBN: 9781005604264

Katie Sweet

Katie Sweet was born in a small English town in the geologically recent past, and for the present lives in a slightly larger English-speaking town with an unreliable group of artists and a reliable internet connection. She has been published in a number of SF magazines, made her erotica debut with "Subspace Cadet" and is branching out into legal-teen sports erotica with "Hit Me Serve Me"

Book preview

After every volleyball practice, when all the girls sit around, every pair of long legs and bare arms are all flush with exercise, shiny and slippery with sweat. That's when we can all totally understand Coach's strict rules about closing the gym. A dozen tall babes sitting around in booty shorts, covered with a shiny layer of sweaty fluid, breathing heavy and skin flushed, excited and chests pumping? Yes, Coach, we get it, practice is closed. Nothing as annoying as high school boys pretending not to look while they openly drool onto their phones.

But even though it's quiet, senior girls volleyball is anyway nice, because on Tuesdays and Thursdays we get the last practice of the evening, so there's nobody coming in the gym after us. That makes it good time to sit around, chugging blue and orange sports drinks, letting the sweat dry on our bare legs, and rubbing high-tech fabric conditioner into our special shiny shorts.

Yes, I know there's not a lot of high-school teams that have uniforms made out of this new shiny kind of reactive spandex. But our school is lucky. Our town has two big textile factories, and they compete to make new sports fabrics all the time. My brother's soccer team plays in kind of a silky fabric that looks blue but is actually green. Does that sound crazy? It means that you can't tell which way the boys are moving, or how fast. They say the international soccer league, whoever that is, probably will make the fabric illegal for soccer.

For volleyball the other company makes these amazing shorts. Or anyway shorts out of this amazing material that's kind of grabby and massagey. When you're wearing them, it feels totally like you're being butt-massaged, and not in a creepy way. Just—like supportive. Like it keeps the blood flowing to your muscles and they don't get as sore. And your thighs too, although really the shorts don't cover much leg. The material is really cool. The only downside is you have to like constantly rub in this conditioner, sort of a kind of oil, every time you wear the shorts. And the fabric has to be stretched out, so it's better if you do it while you're still wearing them. Some girls do it at home, alone, which I guess I understand. But lots of us do it together, after practice. We just sit around, like I said, drinking coloured fitness drinks and rubbing conditioner into our butts, upper thighs, and mounds.

Yes, there's a lot of that, because the fabric looks hot as fuck, to be honest. I'm sorry for swearing and all—I totally didn't used to be that kind of girl. I mostly stayed away from boys, in fact. I've been dreaming like all my life about getting into Notre Dame, and I know my reputation is important.

Or I used to think that. Now, thanks to Coach, and Lisa, I guess I just don't give a fuck. Oh I still want to get into Notre Dame. I just don't give a fuck about my repuation.

And it all happened because this one Thursday. So after practice I was sitting right at the edge of one of the piled-up gym mats, leaning back on my butt with my knees apart. My left hand was back behind me holding up my weight, and my right hand was rubbing the conditioner into the fabric of my thighs, and yes every time I switched across from one leg to the other leg, I pushed a little harder on my mound as I moved my fingers across it.

And also yes, this was the same position I use when I get myself off, at home on my bed. It's exactly the same position. If I stopped rubbing conditioner into the fabric, and started rubbing my hard little clit and pushing fingers up inside my pussy lips, it would be exactly how I made myself cum. So yeah,  there I was, after Thursday practice, rubbing the conditioner into the shiny shorts over my pussy, thinking of getting myself off. And then I looked up and saw Lisa.

She had only been at our school for about two months, but already I could tell that she was better than me in nearly every way. I mean not just getting better marks on every test. But also more edgy than me, and also prettier. I have straight black hair and blue-grey eyes and just basic pink no-tan skin, and I thought that was kind of pretty.

But it didn't compare to Lisa. Her skin was even paler than mine, like an old-fashioned plate almost, and she had little tiny freckles sprinkled across it, which make her look like vanilla ice cream with cinnamon sprinkles. Her eyes got to be some kind of crazy green, and her hair omigod is for real copper coloured crazy curls like the girl in that bow and arrow movie when we were kids. Just her hair is so incredibly pretty, and she didn't even do anything with it, just tied it all back into a crazy spray behind her head.

I was tall, but Lisa was taller. Her legs were really long and her thighs didn't touch when she bent over in front of me, which happens all the time in volleyball. Her butt was hard as a rock when I slapped it, which you do all the time in volleyball.  This kind of thing is part of why I love volleyball, and also why Coach closes the practices. We do a lot of touching.

Lisa's body was better than mine too: her hips were slim like a snake, which is common in volleyball, except for me, grrr. Her breasts you could barely see they were there, unless she was cold, when her nipples perked out. She always hid her breasts, even in the shower, but I knew the nipples were super-perky. Oh and that's not something from volleyball. That's just from me checking on her. Not jealous, just like pissed off.