Driving girls to top performance

No matter what sport it is, when young girls are involved, there is usually a coach who pushes them to achieve their best. In athletics, the parents usually have permission to “touch hard” on the little one if she doesn’t parry. I Team sport is a family sport and losing a game rarely goes without punishment.

We knew it from Steffi Graf. All other female athletes are unreported. Steffi's coach was her father and he wanted to make a tennis star out of her no matter what. If she let up, she would slap her face. If she had a bad day, she had to practice until she dropped. If she lost a match, a beating was in order. The one right on the pitch. The other at home, where there were no witnesses.

This is probably what happens to other female athletes who have ambitious parents behind them who want to make something of their daughter. Because sport is about physical challenges and what could be more natural than punishing physical mistakes with physically noticeable punishments?

This rule also applied to HSV Somewhere, whose real name is better not mentioned here. The trainer was a man who firmly believed that the only way to keep a bunch of young chickens together was through iron discipline. And he relied on a supple leather belt that adapted wonderfully to female curves with every blow, leaving a burning mark on the skin and, above all, in the memory. What could be a better method to create the fighting spirit without which nothing works in sport?

The belt was lying ostentatiously in the trainer's office and clearly visible to every visitor. It was wider than a normal trouser belt and a good meter long. For those who knew how to interpret its function, it was extremely impressive. And it was nice and supple because it was carefully cared for by its owner and regularly greased. If he called one of the girls into his office to give her a lecture, it rarely happened without the person leaving the room with obvious welts on her body. A circumstance that everyone in the team knew and yet would never get to the outside world. Because everyone knew that a winning team had to stick together.

So it was good for the morale of the team when every single player was afraid of feeling the dreaded leather strap. It promoted discipline. It strengthened the will to win. It was the secret of success, even if no one dared to say it. Because their coach was like a father to the girls. He was the one who would lead them to victory with a mix of fear, discipline and choir spirit. And as a father, he had the right to punish those who didn't do their best.

Success proved him right. But victories could not be forced because the opposing team also had choir spirit and gave their best. So it was inevitable that HSV Somewhere lost a game or two and the girls left the field with their heads bowed while the winners were celebrated.

Then they were sad because no one likes to be a loser. They had tears in their eyes because they knew they had disappointed and weren't good enough. They were secretly trembling because their coach would make them feel that they had failed. He would show them that under his leadership and rule there were only two alternatives: win and be praised or lose and be punished. First all together and then one after the other.

When the will to win waned, he brought the leather strap into play. He held it casually and silently threateningly in his hand as he trained the team and relentlessly pushed them to achieve top performance. Sometimes he would pick one to make an example of. Then he lashed out with the belt and struck. During training. When preparing for the next game. In mentally preparing for victory. Then the victim shrieked as a red welt flared up on her bare thigh. Then he was the old teacher who told his students what they should learn for life. Because it's the same everywhere: the winner is showered with glory, the loser is punished.

He waited until they had all undressed and were in the shower. Then he picked up the leather strap and a little later he was standing under the door of the shower room. It was a single, large room that offered no privacy whatsoever. Normally, the girls here joked and laughed boisterously as they washed the sweat of the game from their bodies and enjoyed the warmth of the jet of water after the grueling exertion. They were in a good mood and splashed themselves, screaming like little children. Today, however, there was silence in the room and a dozen young, naked bodies stood silently in the showers as the room filled with steam.

The trainer walked down the long line of showers, all of which were mounted along the outer walls of the tiled room. He used many words to express his disappointment while his players were anything but comfortable in their nudity. Then he repeated his round. His voice was noticeably sharper and with every condemning statement he lashed out and struck. He made sure that each one was the target of the biting leather several times. He noticed with satisfaction the rich slap of the supple strap on bare, wet skin. He heard the shrill screams of those hit. He saw the red welts that formed on his toned thighs and buttocks and his anger was gradually replaced by a feeling of satisfaction.

They deserved to be punished. He had trained them for weeks and groomed them to win, but they had failed. They hadn't played their best and simply hadn't been good enough to beat the opposing team. In fact, each of them deserved to be tied up and whipped. But of course that wasn't possible here in the stadium's shower rooms.

That's why this was just a first taste. Because he would ensure that such an embarrassment never happened again. Not while he was her coach.

Although it was a losing game, all was not lost and there was still a chance of emerging victorious from the competition. The coach didn't give them any time and started training for the next game on Monday. And he not only promised them that it would be the hardest training they had ever experienced. He also announced that he would attack each of them individually.

That's exactly what he did. He didn't have to be there while the group warmed up and got ready for practice. So he uses the time to single out one of the girls on each training day and study her thoroughly in the privacy of his office. He had been paying close attention during the losing game, watching each of them closely. He had memorized the mistakes she had made, and they were the subject of an in-depth conversation between coach and player. But that's not all. When the inadequacies were clarified, he asked her to stand up and take off her jersey. Then she was instructed to bend over one of the leather chairs in his trainer's office and delivered a dozen sharp strokes to her athletically firm ass, which were intended to be a lesson to her.

It was one of them every training day. Every day he took on a different girl's bottom until the entire team realized the seriousness of the situation. He knew he was the shining example for these young geese, who were determined to please their trainer and achieve the victory they had come for. Some were downright in love with him. Most people saw him as something like a father who only wanted the best for them and of course had the right to punish each and every one of them, just as one would punish a girl who didn't live up to her father's expectations.

In other disciplines, the training of promising candidates begins in childhood in order to develop the desired physical abilities. For example, in a documentary of Chinese ballet dancers, the ballet master was seen standing next to his student with the wooden paddle in his hand to supervise the exercises he had assigned to her. Even one mistake was enough for the hard wood to hit her little bottom until she mastered the exercise. Chinese parents are extremely proud when their daughter is one of the select group of girls who will one day perform in the Chinese State Ballet. A few good slaps on the bottom are a small price to pay to satisfy that pride.