Martin’s Lesson
Part 1
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Martin strutted into his high school locker room, chest puffed out beneath his damp, silky football jersey, a smug grin plastered across his face. "You call that a pass, Captain?" he taunted, tossing his helmet onto the bench. "Maybe next time, try not to throw like a damn rookie."

The rest of the team exchanged uneasy glances. Their captain, Jake, was known for his patience, but Martin had been pushing it for weeks. Tonight, Jake had enough.

"Big talk for someone who couldn’t score when it mattered," Jake said, cracking his knuckles. "Maybe you need a lesson in respect."

Before Martin could snap back, hands grabbed him from behind. "What the!?" He thrashed, but the team was stronger. Tape wrapped around his wrists, binding them behind his back. Someone put him down onto the bench, his legs quickly secured.

The next hour was a blur of humiliation. They flicked sweat from their own jerseys onto him, ran ice-cold water down his back, playfully tugged at his slick jersey, mocking how "fancy" and "soft" it felt against his squirming body. Jake took special pleasure in reminding Martin who was in charge, whispering taunts in his ear while ruffling his sweat-damp hair.

"Not so cocky now, are you?"

By the time they were done, the locker room was empty, and Martin was left there, bound, gagged, and humbled, finally realizing that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as untouchable as he thought.