Tales of the Tournaments

"We did it, we did it, we did it..."

"Whoa, kiddo." Alyssa Naeher caught Mallory mid-bounce, laughing softly to herself. "Yeah, we did. You did. Again." She favored her fellow Red Star with a grin, tousling the younger girl's hair. "The reporters have been making a big deal of that, haven't they?"

"Well of course they have, I've scored in every single match this year." Mal grinned ear to ear. "Though not because of Dansby," she added with an eyeroll that smacked so much of teenage sass that Alyssa couldn't help but snicker.

"No of course not, bunny, you did that with the team. I'm sure knowing Dansby supports us, especially you, is good for you, but it's not like you can't play without him."

Except, Alyssa thought, that was what the announcers had been suggesting. She tugged Mal close as the younger girl kicked at the floor. "Hey now. None of that. You were brilliant today, but we need to make sure you don't lose your head."

Mal froze and shook her head. "Oh, no way, Alyssa, Linds can't."

Lindsey walked over, the captain's armband still wrapped around her arm, and regarded her best friend thoughtfully. "I'm supposed to," she pointed out. "Mummy Carli would want me to."

"But she's Mummy Carli, and you're Linds," Mal protested. It was still weird to see Lindsey wearing their Mummy's number 10 on her jersey, never mind the Captain's armband.

Lindsey exhaled, burying her face in her hand. "Not going to make this easy for me, are you, Mal?"

"You can't seriously."

"She's the Captain, baby bunny. She can seriously," Alyssa pointed out dryly.

"But she's my Linds," Mal said again.

Alyssa and Lindsey sighed in tandem.

"Would it help if I went first, little bit?" 

Mal twisted in Alyssa's grasp to look up at Taylor Kornieck. The midfielder was probably calling her little in the physical sense of the word, as Taylor was among the tallest on the team. She and Mal were about the same age, and Mal was a few months older than the San Diego player.

Then again, there was the fact that Mal was very definitely in littlespace about now, her excitement at being such a celebrated goalscorer having gotten to her.

Six goals in five games straight was amazing. No one on the National Team could deny that.

"What did you do?" Mal demanded.

Taylor snorted. "Didn't move fast enough for the ref," she said dryly. "To be honest I thought the card was for Lindsey to start with."

Lindsey shrugged. "Either I didn't get off the pitch quickly enough or you were too fast, coming on before I was all the way off, but the ref decided it was yellow card worthy and that it was your fault."

Mal frowned. "That's stupid."

"Mhmm," Taylor nodded. "But a booking is a booking."

"I don't feel right about it, considering I was involved," Lindsey said slowly. 

"Not really too eager myself, Cap," Taylor replied. "But I know team rules."

Lindsey sighed and sat on the bench, twisting her armband. "I wish M-I mean, Carli was here."

This wasn't helping. Alyssa turned, keeping a firm grip on Mal, to see if anyone else was able to take control of the situation. She hadn't even come off the bench; it didn't feel right for her to get involved any more than necessary.

She caught Alex Morgan's eye, and the San Diego captain crossed the room (after making sure Charlie was safely in their teammates' hands).

"What's taking so long?" she asked.

Lindsey and Mal blushed, staring at the floor.

"Tia Alex, I have to--and I can't--"

"We don't have time now, we have to get back to the hotel," Alex said, understanding immediately. "Taylor, Mal, you're in my room when we get back, Servando can take Charlie over to Crystal, Lindsey, whoever."

"But Tia Alex," Mal protested, "Lindsey's the captain but she can't--"

"I'm a captain, and I will," Alex said firmly. "Easy Mal, you knew this was coming."

Sighing, the younger forward nodded. "Because when we make records we don't want it going to our head. Yes Alex," she offered, pulling herself together. "But not lots, please?"

"Not lots for either of you. We could have been done by now if Lindsey had just got on with it," Alex sighed, "but I understand, sweetheart," she added, squeezing Lindsey's shoulder, "and you're not in trouble."

 The USWNT headed out to go back to their hotel as the Brazilians and Canadians were arriving, and Alex stopped long enough to give Marta a hug. 

“Feliz aniversário para você, Marta,” she told the Brazilian captain, who smiled at her longtime friend.

“Obrigada, Alex,” Marta replied, returning the hug. But then the two had to part ways, and Shelina Zadorsky was practically shoving Alex out of the way to get to their friend.

Alex rolled her eyes fondly, taking her leave of the Canadians. “May the best team win.”

“The best team, meaning yours,” Shelina murmured.

“Well, of course.” Alex grinned teasingly. “But seriously, good luck, Lina. With everything.”

“Thanks, and good luck with your girls.”

Then they really had to get going. Taylor and Mal sat together on the team bus, rather than Mal clinging to Lindsey as she usually would, and when they got back to the hotel, the young forward sucked on her lip nervously. She slipped her hand into Taylor’s as they followed Alex up to her room. Lindsey, after some coaxing, took Servando and Charlie to hers and Mal’s room.

“Mal, will you calm down please, you’ve had this happen before,” Alex said in fond exasperation, “you know this is proactive, you’re not really in trouble, and Taylor’s barely in real trouble.”

Mal sat on Alex’s bed, swinging her legs back and forth. “But Linds was going to have to…”

“Okay, and that’s weird,” Alex agreed. “But do you think Lindsey’s not capable of it?”

Mal shrugged slowly. “Guess she’s going to have to with the younger ones, with Mummy Carli gone and all.”

“M-hmm. And Brunn and I won’t be around forever, much as I hate to admit it. Lys, either,” Alex pointed out. “If Carli thought Linds was the right one to take over for her, then Linds was the right one.”

“If Lyon would let us keep her around long enough to practice being in charge,” Taylor muttered, and Alex snorted.

“Yeah, well, that, too. She’d be better back at Portland, when things are less crazy th--” Alex cut herself off mid-word. “Taylor Jacklyn Kornieck, are you trying to stall me?”

The midfielder favored her San Diego captain with an innocent smile. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Alex and Mal said in tandem. Taylor shrugged.

“You caught me.”

“If you’re being a brat, you can stand in the corner for me while I deal with Mal.”

Taylor’s cheeks flushed. “Yes, Captain.” She moved to face the corner, shoulders rising and falling in a reluctant shrug as she leaned against the wall. That yellow card had been ridiculous, but all the same it was a yellow card, and even if the ref had been unclear at first whether it was her or Lindsey, she supposed something ought to be learned from it. 

Somewhere behind Taylor, back on the bed, Alex had gently pulled Mal into her lap and was speaking gently to her. “Now, Mal, you know why we do this.”

“To keep our heads out of the clouds and our feet on the ground. Yes Alex,” Mal sighed unhappily. “It’s not that I won’t, it’s just that Lindsey--”

“I know, you’d rather have it from your Mummy than your twin. Well, I can’t give you Carli, but I’m here. Is that alright?” Alex asked, her voice gently coaxing.

Mal nodded, leaning on Alex’s shoulder. “Okay,” she allowed.

“That’s my good girl. So just a little reminder then,” Alex said, and Mal very reluctantly repositioned herself over Alex’s lap, letting her older teammate bare her. She was used to these ‘reminders’, although she hadn’t had one herself in a while. Sophia Smith was the last one to catch it this way, from Brunn, she figured. Her fellow little on the team  had told her about Brunn’s Zoom call and visit. 

Thinking about Sophia almost distracted her from her own spanking - almost, until Alex’s first smack landed on her bare bottom, and Mal yelped. “Ow, Alex, not so hard!”

“Not very hard, bunny,” Alex reassured her, “you’re just out of condition.”

Mal snorted, burying her face in her folded arms as the swats continued to fall. “Doesn’t mean you have to keep me in it,” she replied, still clearly enough for Alex to understand.

“Should we ask Foudy about that?” Alex teased lightly as she moved her focus to Mal’s sit spots. The first dozen over Mal’s bottom cheeks had been enough to have Mal squirming; these eight made her yelp and kick, though not enough to kick Alex or roll off her lap.

“N-no we don’t need to involve Foudy,” Mal gasped, eyes wide. “Please, sorry, I’ll be so good Alex, I won’t be arrogant.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Alex scooped Mal up, righting her, and kissed her forehead lightly. “You’re our good girl, Mal, don’t worry, it’s alright now, Alex’s got you. It’s all okay.”

Mal sighed in relief, snuggling close to Alex. “Oh, but what about Taylor?” she ventured, because their teammate was still standing quietly in the corner, waiting her turn.

“I’m still here,” Taylor informed Mal, not turning from her corner as Alex righted Mal’s clothes and set her on her feet. “Is it time, Cap?”

“I’d say it’s past time,” Alex quipped. “Come on then, brat.”

Taylor blushed. “Yes ma’am.” She returned to Alex, and without being asked, Mal took Taylor’s place in the corner - less because she was being punished, and more because she wanted to give Taylor whatever privacy the midfielder could have.

Neither Mal or Taylor had taken the time to change out of their kit, so Alex summarily bared her San Diego teammate, getting her support out of the way as Taylor blushed.

“I could have done it, Alex,” she protested.
“Naughty brats who put off their smackings don’t bare themselves, Taylor Jacklyn.”
Well if Alex was trying to make her feel like a small child, she was succeeding. Taylor’s face was bright red as she took up position over Alex’s lap.

“How old are you Taylor?”

“Twenty-four, Captain,” Taylor said warily, though she felt about half that at the moment. She heard Alex’s hum of acknowledgement and that was all before the first spank fell.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. By ‘ten’, Taylor was definitely squirming. Alex must have been spanking her harder than Mal, Taylor thought as the next few smacks continued to fall; eighteen brought the first audible tears, and instead of leaving off, Alex focused on the midfielder’s sit spots, making her cry harder.

The final half-dozen smacks landed, three to each sit spot, and Alex stilled her hand, rubbing Taylor’s back comfortingly. “Alright Taylor, little one.”

“Hardly little, Cap,” Taylor protested, but she recovered quickly. Her bottom was sore, but this was far from the hardest spanking she’d been given since joining the league ( that record was still held by Ashlyn Harris, back when Taylor had been an Orlando rookie, although that circumstance had been extraordinary and never since been repeated). “I’m sorry about the yellow card.” 

“I know,” Alex agreed, helping Taylor get up and re-dress. “Try to be more careful next time, alright? I don’t want you getting any more yellow cards, even accidental ones.”

“Yes ma’am,” Taylor agreed, giving her bottom a careful rub. It would be all right before too long, she figured. Orlando…well, that had been different. “Mal, you okay?”

Mal took that as permission to rejoin them. “I’m fine,” she reassured Taylor, hugging the taller girl. “Ready to win on Wednesday? Not being arrogant,” she added quickly to Alex, who laughed. “I just want us to win.”

“We all want that, bunny,” Alex said fondly, “and I think we can do it.” Can didn’t mean would, it was Brazil after all. But it was entirely possible. “Why don’t you two go get some rest, and we’ll go out later when you’re feeling better, and celebrate. Let Linds see you’re in one piece, Mal, bunny, alright?”

“Alright,” Mal agreed, giving Alex a squeeze and heading back to her and Lindsey’s room. Taylor hugged Alex, too, and took her own leave, going back to her bed to rest, and think.

Her thoughts inevitably went back to Orlando again. Marta had been there. So had Shelina Zadorsky. Teammates and friends then that she met here across a field, going head to head. But she’d use what she knew about Marta to try and defeat her. That wasn’t cheating, she reminded herself. It was just good football, as Marta herself would have said.

Wednesday couldn’t come soon enough.