Tales of the Tournaments

"We won, we won we won we won..."

"Easy, slow down, little one," Daan laughed as Esmee launched herself at the older girl with a happy squeal. She caught the bouncy girl and gave her a grin. "Yes, we won."

"Not that we weren't going to," Jill Roord commented. "Vietnam didn't exactly make it difficult." 

"Uh uh. I thought they came to play," Esmee reflected.

"They might have tried to play, but we came to win," Daan replied. She spun the giggling girl in her arms, who then launched herself at Jill instead.

"We were so good, Jill! And we scored twice," Esmee enthused. "You and me, we did it." 

"You bet we did, little one," Jill ruffled Esmee's hair, much to the little forward's annoyance. "And we'll do it again, too."

"Uh huh, we're gonna win the World Cup this time. Because the US are barely playing right anyways. You scored on them, too, Jill." 

"I'd be careful if I were you," Lieke Martens said warningly. "We shouldn't underestimate them." 

"Oh please." Lineth Beerensteyn scoffed. "They barely managed to play their way out of a paper bag. We had them. Next time, we'll score against them, too, Esmee. Alright?"

"Yes!" Esmee cheered, hugging the older forward. "Yes, yes. We can do it next time. we'll beat the US and everyone else."

Lieke covered her face with her hands, seeing who had stepped through the door. Where the hell had Sari come from and how much had she heard?

"Hello, girls."

The Orange Lionesses turned toward the source of the voice - Sari van Veenendaal, retired Dutch keeper and mentor to many of the current squad. She had spoken calmly, and walked further into the room, closing the door fully behind her. "Congratulations on the win. I see some of us are very excited about it."

Esmee looked at Lineth for help. "We were really good, weren't we? The best in the group?"

The older forward smiled and patted her head. "We were definitely the best in the group, Sari can't argue that. Can you, Sari?"

The former goalkeeper and captain shook her head. "No, I certainly wasn't going to argue it. But we do still have something to discuss. Don't we, Sherida?"

She looked at the current captain, whose cheeks were flushed. "How much did you hear, Sari?"

"Oh, an excited little one chanting about how 'we won, we won' captured my attention."

Esmee blushed. "But Miss Sari, we did win. By lots."

"That's right, and we don't want it turning your head, Esmee," Sherida said. "Nor yours, Jill. You know how it is."

Jill stared at the floor. "Sorry, Sherida, I didn't mean to get carried away..."

"Be that as it may, you did, and worse, you encouraged Esmee."

"Esmee's just a kid, though--"

Esmee whirled on Jill and glared at her, arms crossed. "I am not! I'm twenty now! I'm not even the baby of the team anymore," she added, and Wieke Kaptein swallowed nervously, ducking behind Daan. Her fellow midfielder patted the teen's back gently.

"It's alright little one, you haven't done anything. Nothing to worry about, Wieke, why don't you just sit down here and let Miss Sari and Sherida handle things," Daan said. She got the girl settled with Jackie Groenen to watch her, then returned to the other goalscorers. So far, only Katja Snoeijs hadn't spoken up, the forward apparently deciding silence was the better part of valor, or however the expression went. 

"Miss Sari?" Esmee looked warily at the keeper, who she vaguely remembered from the Euro squad last year. "Are you and Cap mad with us? For winning?"

"Never for winning, little one," Sari promised. "But, you and Jill need to remember to be humble. We want to win, of course, but we don't want to be arrogant."

Lineth rolled her eyes, and Lieke shook her head warningly at Lineth. Didn't she think either Sari or Sherida would notice?

"Oh," Esmee said. "But Sherida, didn't we do a good job, especially me and Jill?"

"You did do a good job. No one is denying that," Sherida assured her. "But, sometimes you need a reminder to keep your head out of the clouds and your feet on the ground."

"But Sherida..." Esmee turned to Jill in a panic. "What's Sherida going to do? Or is it going to be Miss Sari?" 

Jill knew exactly what Sherida planned to do, and grimaced. "Possibly both. There's two of them and two of us, after all."

"But Daan scored too, and Lieke, and Katja!" Esmee's voice rose a few notches. 

"Shhh." Sari gathered the teen in her arms. "Breathe."

"Miss Sari, please don't smack me and Jill, we're good, we've been so good," Esmee begged anxiously.

"Don't panic," Sari said, keeping her voice even. "Breathe. Settle down for me." With Sari's guidance, Esmee breathed in, held it, and breathed out for a count of four, burying her face in the keeper's chest. 

"But Miss Sari," she sniffled. "Please, I promise we'll be good, so good for the whole entire tournament."

"You can't promise that for anyone but yourself, little one," Sari pointed out. "And even then, it's too big a promise to make. Will you take your reminder, from me or Sherida, like a good girl and show me you can behave?"

Esmee swallowed nervously. "It's...it's not going to be lots?"

"Just enough," Sari promised. "It's alright little one, good girls only get little smackings. Like maintenance."

Esmee blushed. Even though it had been about two years since her classification, talking about it was still hard sometimes.

"Yes Miss Sari."

"There's our good little girl. Now, fetch me the bath brush."

Esmee squeaked, looking up at Sari. "But the--for maintenance, Miss Sari! Sherida!"

"You heard her, Brugts," Sherida said in a warning tone, and the use of her surname made Esmee's eyes widen.

"But, the bath brush, Captain..."

"It might not even be for you, Esmee. At least if you listen to Miss Sari right away," Daan prompted.

Eyes wide, Esmee scuttled into the room with the ice baths, locating the brush and returning. She handed it to Sari meekly.

"Sorry, Miss Sari, ma'am, it's just...it's the bath brush."

"I told you that you would only be getting a reminder, Esmee," Sari said, as patiently as she could. "Do you believe me? Or do you think I would lie to you?"

"Oh no, you wouldn't," Esmee shook her head, dark braids flying. 

"No, I wouldn't." Sari squeezed her shoulder gently. "Go stand with Sherida. Jill, come here."

The blonde midfielder approached warily, stopping a foot in front of Sari.

"All the way over, Jill," Sari prompted, seating herself on the bench. Reluctantly, Jill closed the distance between herself and her former Captain, allowing Sari to tug her down across the retired keeper's lap.

"Now then, this is only because you and Esmee were letting your success go to your heads, do you understand me Jill?" Sari asked.

"Yes ma'am," Jill said, reaching down and grabbing Sari's leg as Sari tugged her shorts and panties down to her knees. The blonde blushed crimson with the exposure in front of the rest of the team.

"Ten. Count," Sari ordered, and Jill nodded frantically, yelping from the first smack of Sari's strong hand. Retirement hadn't softened her any.

"One, ma'am," she whimpered, and she managed to keep count through each of the successive swats. Ten really wasn't very many, less than half of what Jill was used to from Sari, so while she was tearful, she wasn't sobbing by the time "ten, ma'am" passed her lips.

Sari lifted Jill up, and tugged her panties and shorts back up for her. "Alright, Esmee," she said. "Come here."

Esmee had learned from the experience of the past few minutes, and she approached Sari quickly, though not eager for her smacking. She stood where Sari pointed, and let the keeper pull her into position, wriggling but not protesting as her bottom was bared.

"Ten. Count," Sari said again, and Esmee did, never knowing that Sari softened the smacks that rained down on Esmee's bottom. They were just as loud, but not as hard as the ones she had given Jill, who was after all older and ought to have set the example. Esmee managed to count her way through the swats, and when she was set on her feet, clothes put to rights, Sari welcomed both Jill and Esmee into her arms for a hug.

"Alright then, my girls," she said. "There you are, just a little warning."

Esmee exhaled in relief, nodding into Sari's chest. "T-thank you Miss Sari. B-but then who's the brush for?"

Sari raised her eyebrows. "Hmm. I wonder if you can think of anyone who ought to have been yellow carded in the last match, for an absolutely ridiculous display of temper?"

Both Jill and Esmee, of course, automatically looked at Daan, who blushed vibrantly.

"Sari! Do you know what Sherida did to me for that?"

"I know exactly what Sherida did to you for that, and just so we are perfectly clear about misbehaviour in future, Danielle van de Donk, we will be dealing with it right here and now - not waiting until you get home."

Daan swallowed hard.

"Yes ma'am."

Without needing further prompting, blushing as she felt the team's eyes on her, Daan went directly to Sari's side and allowed Sari to put her in position, tugging her shorts down. The fact that unlike her teammates, her panties had been left in place, didn't offer Daan much comfort.

The fact that they were Matildas green and gold did, although that also got a few knowing smirks behind her back. 

"No need to ask what that's about," Sherida murmured.

Sari wasn't concerned with the colour of Daan's underwear though. She pressed one hand on Daan's back. "Thirty. Count."

Then her palm came crashing down and Daan was already regretting the stupid choice she'd made to tackle Lindsey all over again. "One, ma'am!" she yelped, counting her way tearfully through the first ten swats. By the time "ten, ma'am" had passed Daan's lips, Sari was pulling the last bit of protection Daan's bottom had away, yanking them to her knees to join her shorts.

It was Daan's bare bottom the next round of ten swats landed on, Sari's hand swatting down fast and hard, leaving Daan just enough breath to tearfully count every smack.

At "Twenty, ma'am," something shifted in Daan. The team noticed, and Sherida gestured them through to the ice baths with a flick of her hand. Esmee wanted to stay and comfort Daan, but Sherida shook her head.

"Go on. Sari's got her. They need to finish this alone."

Lieke took Esmee and Wieke by the hand, and led the two youngests away before they could dig themselves any deeper. Sherida followed behind them.

Meanwhile, Sari had paused, though not ended, the punishment. She pressed her large hand lightly on Daan's reddening bottom. "Are you still with me, Daan?"

Daan's eyes widened and she nodded. "Uh huh."

"Do I have big Daan or little Daan with me right now?"

Daan blushed and hid her face. "Uhh....not big," she admitted in a small voice, as though she was worried Sari would be angry with her.

"Alright, Daantje." Sari patted Daan's hair gently. "Are you our little Daan who needs Mama?"

"Uh huh," Daan whispered, anxious.

"Mama Sari's here, Daantje. But Mama also has to finish your smacking, because you were a naughty girl for Auntie Sherida. Can you understand that?" Sari prompted.

"Uh huh, but Mama Sari, Daantje doesn't want smacking," Daan pleaded.

Sari had to force herself not to smile. Daan was too adorable in this state.

"I know you don't, Daantje. But you're almost done, just ten more," Sari soothed her. "Then you can cuddle with Mama."

"B-but Mama, the brush," Daan sniffled. "No brush for Daantje?"

"I'm afraid Mama has to," Sari said regretfully. "But we'll finish this quickly, alright? Can you be my brave girl, Daantje? Mama's here, Mama won't let you go."

Daan considered this. Little Daan was just big enough to realise she didn't really have any choice. She'd been a really naughty girl for Auntie Sherida, and Mama said she needed a smacking, and Mama had been giving her a smacking when it happened. And just because it happened during, didn't mean she could get out of a smacking, ever.

“Uh huh.”

Daan’s hold on Sari’s leg tightened, and Sari smacked Daan’s sit spots firmly twice each with her hand before picking up the brush. The bath brush smacked down on Daan’s bottom, twice to each bottom cheek and once to each sit spot, and Daan wasn’t told to count but she knew when it was over, because she was scooped back up into Sari’s arms, held tight against the retired keeper’s chest. Her panties and shorts were pulled back up, and Sari’s hand, so firm before, rubbed her back gently.

“It’s okay Daantje. You can be as little as you want, with Mama Sari. You’re alright,” she soothed Daan as the little one sobbed in her arms. “It’s alright, you’re safe and it’s all forgiven.” She rocked Daan slowly, soothing her until Daan was calm, and held her close.

Eventually, Daan stirred. “Sari?” she whispered, blushing, and Sari smiled a little. 

“Hello, Daan. Are we big again?”

Slowly, Daan nodded. “I think so? Sorry I caused so much trouble, Sari,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to make you have to come all the way here for me.”

“Oh, I was planning on coming anyway,” Sari promised. “But when Sherida said you needed me…”

“Are you going to stay?” Daan sniffled. “Only I don’t have Ellie, not really, and…”

“Of course I will,” Sari agreed. Daan needed her, the way her Ellie needed Sam Kerr. She wasn’t going to leave her little one alone when Daan was feeling fragile.

“Come on. Let’s get you back to the hotel and put you to bed.”

With a brief pause to inform Sherida of the arrangement, that was what they did. Sari took Daan back to the hotel where the Dutch were based, taking Daan to her room and putting her to bed.

She got out Daan’s pajamas, but when Daan saw what else Sari had, she balked. A pull-up? It would be mortifying if any of their other teammates saw.

“You just regressed a little bit ago, Daantje. You might not have been that small, but in your kind of upset I can’t trust it,” Sari said. “Littles sleep in pull-ups when they’re sick, there’s nothing shameful about it. Just in case.”

Daan sighed, but submitted to Sari’s demand, letting Sari put the pajamas on her and put her to bed. “Thank you, Sari.”

“You’re welcome, my angel.” Sari sat on the bed, making sure Daan had her favorite plush, and began humming soothingly.

Soon Daan was sound asleep.