Miss Lisa and the Matildas (In the Australian locker room after the quarterfinal)
As soon as Renard gave her permission, Daan rushed down the tunnel to the Matildas' side, knocking on the door.
Lisa de Vanna opened it for her, Ellie standing behind Lisa, and Daan entered, pulling Ellie into her arms at once. She kissed Ellie fervently, not caring that Ellie's teammates could all see them.
"Oi, get a room, van de Donk," Steph called, and Daan pulled back to glare at the vice captain.
"You're just jealous," she smirked. "Because my beautiful girlfriend scored for Australia, and that deserves a reward. Besides, I didn't see you doing that."
Steph's face drained of colour, and Ellie made a soft noise of protest.
"Daan. That was mean," she said.
"I'm sorry, liefje," Daan cooed. "Sorry, Catley. Besides, I'm sure you'll be answering for it soon enough."
"You'd best watch your attitude, Danielle," Lisa warned her.
Wisely, Daan fell silent. She followed Ellie's urgent tug on her hand and went to sit with Ellie on the bench in front of Ellie's cubby, the other Matildas sitting in front of their own. Ellie nestled securely in Daan's lap, head resting on her girlfriend's shoulder.
"Well, my girls," Lisa said. "I would say it's a pleasure to be back with you, but I'm afraid it doesn't mean pleasant things for all of you. Though I am proud of the team for winning," she made sure to tell them. "Gorry, Fowler, Raso, Kennedy, Carpenter, Vine, Catley, Arnold, Foord, Cooney-Cross, stay. The rest of you, ice baths."
"With respect, ma'am, I'm staying," Sam said firmly, taking one of Ellie's hands in hers. Alanna left her seat and came to kneel at Sam's feet, a soft cushion protecting Alanna's knees from the hard floor. She rested her head on Sam's knee, Sam's free hand finding its way into Alanna's.
Lisa knew which battles to fight, and that wasn’t it. “Alright,” she conceded. “The rest of you, go.”
The rest of the team went to the ice baths without protest, and Lisa took out the martinet.
Ellie squeaked. “Y-you’ve been to see the Headmistress.”
“I have,” Lisa agreed. “Renard gave me this. You know what it is, Ellie.”
“Uh huh,” Ellie swallowed nervously. “Is it going to be lots, Miss Lisa, ma’am?” She took care to address her former captain as respectfully as she could, eyeing the martinet anxiously. “Cause really, it was a missed shot. And I made my penalty shot,” she added.
“Not ‘lots’ for you, little one, no,” Lisa promised. “Nor for most of you. But thank you for recognising why it’s necessary for most of you,” she added. “I know missing your shot is hard, and you don’t want to go into the next match feeling like you could have done more, without having something done about it.”
Ellie exchanged glances with Mary Fowler, who had shifted to sit closer when most of their teammates left. They were both pretty sure they could do without the reminder thank you very much. Especially with that.
But it didn’t pay to say such things to Lisa de Vanna. “Yes ma’am,” Ellie sighed heavily, getting a reassuring kiss from Daan as reward for her acceptance.
(Daan, she knew, didn’t like the look of that martinet either. But she would like Ellie to not borrow more trouble for herself, when some was already coming.)
“Alright then. Fowler, here please.” Lisa beckoned the team youngest, who reluctantly got up and went to Lisa obediently. She found herself bent over Lisa’s thigh, bottom bared, for four quick swats with Lisa’s palm.
Then Mary was on her feet again, sniffling, and allowed to correct her clothing. She was immensely relieved that the martinet had not come into play.
“Now you, Carpenter,” Lisa prompted.
Eyes wide, Ellie hurried to obey. Her smacking was identical to Mary’s before her, and tears had barely started before she was set on her feet again.
“There you are, little one,” Lisa soothed. “Hunt next.”
Clare was unsurprised to receive the same four smacks as her younger teammates, Then it was Cortnee Vine’s turn.
By the time Hayley Raso was called, the twenty-eight-year-old figured she knew what to expect. But then, the other girls were a good deal younger than she was. So when she was bare over Lisa’s knee for not four, but six bare bottom smacks, the forward didn’t argue it. Mackenzie Arnold took the same, the keeper exhaling in relief when they were done and hurriedly returning to her cubby. Steph Catley got eight smacks, the vice-captain figuring this was Lisa’s way of saying ‘you were captain tonight, you should have acted it’.
Because, as Steph well knew, there was much more than just missed shots (or in Macca’s case, missed saves and a missed penalty shot) to address. Although Lisa was now finished addressing just those who had got swats for ‘guilt’s sake’ and was ready to move on to those she deemed truly problematic.
“You can go through now,” Lisa prompted, and Mary, Clare, Cortnee, Hayley, Macca, and Steph obeyed without further prompting, joining the others in the ice baths.
Ellie, for her part, promptly climbed back into Daan’s lap. Lisa rolled her eyes in exasperation.
“Take your girlfriend and go through, if you must, Carpenter.”
“I’m not leaving Lanna.”
That figures.
“Ellie Madison Carpenter, now.”
“Shan’t.”
“Oh, let her stay, de Vanna,” Alanna exhaled. “I could use the help.”
“Alright Kennedy, but just for that, it’s your turn now.”
Alanna grimaced, and carefully stood up. “Can I be on Mummy’s lap, please.”
“Since you asked nicely. Sam, you don’t mind?”
Sam shook her head, guiding Alanna down to lie over her lap properly, Alanna’s hands clasping Ellie’s. It was Sam’s practiced hands, not Lisa’s, that eased Alanna’s bottoms down to her knees.
“Do you know why you’re getting this smacking, Alanna Stephanie?” Lisa prompted.
Alanna flinched as she felt the smooth, soft strips of leather drape themselves over her bare cheeks. “B-because, um, of the own goal I almost had, and what me and Le Sommer did to each other.”
“That’s right. Although not because of what Le Sommer did to you,” Lisa clarified. “It was obvious there was intent from you both, but you’re not being punished for her choice.”
“Yes ma’am,” Alanna sniffled. She gripped Ellie’s hands tightly as the martinet was lifted, and then whipped back down, the ten soft tails lashing her bottom and bringing up pink lines.
She yelped at the unfamiliar feel of it, tears starting as the pink colour in her backside spread and deepened with each subsequent lash, covering her cheeks and sit spots. By ten, Alanna was crying hard.
“O-oh, ow, p-please Miss Lisa, sorry, I won’t, I w-won’t hit Le Sommer again, I’ll try, no more own goals, I’ll b-be so good and careful,” she babbled.
Lisa brought the martinet down one more time, across the tops of Alanna’s thighs, very gently. Still, the impact drew a yelp and a sob, and it took a few moments for Alanna to realise it was all over.
“Alright Alanna,” Lisa said, helping Alanna to stand and fix her clothing. “I believe you. Go with your Mummy and sister, and Daan,” she added. “It’s all finished now, no more for you, our good girl.”
Sniffling, Alanna let Sam lead her into the other room, Ellie and Daan following.
This left Katrina Gorry, Caitlin Foord, and Kyra Cooney-Cross behind with Lisa.
“How the three of you managed to make it through the match without being yellow carded I’ll never know,” Lisa de Vanna said in disbelief, shaking her head. “The ref must have been sleeping.”
“I got yellow carded, ma’am,”Kyra pointed out.
Lisa shook her head. “You should have been red carded. Beating up on an already injured opponent?”
Kyra winced.
“I know you’re young,” Lisa continued, because Kyra was, only Mary Fowler was younger on the squad. “But that’s no excuse to behave like an ill-mannered, spoilt brat. And for the three of you, what I gave Kennedy’s going to look like a gentle warm-up.”
Katrina, Caitlin, and Kyra exchanged alarmed looks.
“All three of you, bend over and put your hands on the bench,” Lisa ordered. Not wanting to borrow any more trouble, they did as they were told, and Lisa bared their bottoms, before beginning their punishments, the martinet alternating blows between the three of them.
“Sorry, Lisa!” Katrina yelped. “Sorry I kicked Le Sommer, I won’t do it again!”
“Sorry I took Karchaoui down,” Caitlin added quickly.
“M-me too, sorry!” Kyra wailed, as their whippings continued.
Lisa didn’t pay heed to the apologies, not until they’d each taken at least twenty smacks and their bottoms were red. But as her teammates continued sobbing and begging her to hear them, she rested a comforting hand on the small of Kyra’s back, rubbing gently.
“Won’t ever foul anyone like that ever again, promise!” Kyra bawled.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, little one,” Lisa warned.
“I’ll try to be good, I swear, I want to be good forever,” Kyra sobbed, and after one last smack, Lisa helped her up, setting the girl’s clothes to rights.
“Then that’s enough. You too Caitlin, Katrina,” she added, releasing them to get up and straighten their clothes themselves.
Kyra barrelled into Katrina’s arms, and Kat held the little girl tight. She felt absolutely wretched, not least because she’d obviously set a horrible example for her teammate, who was practically her kid in all the ways that mattered. “I’m sorry, Kyra,” Kat whispered. “I shouldn’t have been a bad example to you. I’ll do better.”
“That’s the most important and believable apology I’ve heard tonight,” Lisa said dryly. “See that you do. And Foord.” She stared at Caitlin. “I’m telling Kim what you’ve done.”
Caitlin grimaced. “Please, no, Lisa - ma’am, I’m sorry.”
“It’s up to her to decide what to do with you, but unless you shape up now…” Lisa left the rest unsaid.
Wincing, Caitlin nodded. “I’ll try,” she promised meekly.
It would have to be good enough.
“There we go,” Lisa soothed, giving each of them a firm hug and squeezing Kyra’s shoulder. “Go and ice up, all of you. There’s a semifinal to prepare for.”
They weren’t slow to obey.