Fifty Dots of Grey

I was so engrossed in inspecting my old and well worn equipment in readiness for the beginning of another exciting summer of playing around the county, that I didn't hear her approach me from behind. "Excuse me"  - I turned around startled, still holding the balls I had found in the fold of my kit, to see the source of the husky yet obviously feminine siren voice. "Can you help me - it's just that I am looking for someone to show me how to score?" she asked hopefully. And so began a partnership that for one glorious unforgettable summer would make me feel like I was once again the star performer of my youth.

Emily was down from University she explained, and was looking for something unusual to add to her skills during the hot summer days. "My brother suggested I come down to this club and offer my services." Her shining green eyes briefly looked down demurely but she quickly returned my gaze with a defiant look. "I know I am not experienced but I am a quick learner" she whispered softly. Against my better judgement I agreed to take her on for a trial period - getting someone to score with in sleepy Valley was a real challenge so I was prepared to put in the effort to teach her the secret language of BDSM - balls by dots scoring method .

"You must do exactly what I tell you - one small slip and you will find yourself in a very difficult position which will leave you completely exposed and open to a tongue lashing by the umpires". Emily nodded enthusiastically and I saw the merest flicker of a smile over her face. "First" I continued, "it is essential to have the correct tools for the job - I don't show many people what I have got and I certainly don't share it around with anyone". And to Emily's delight I pulled from my pocket an old and well-worn pencil case. "In there you will find everything you need - from the reliable stubby one to the larger coloured ones that are so popular nowadays - oh and not forgetting a varied selection of rubbers - we don't want one silly mistake to ruin your fun."

Emily gingerly handled the pencil case, "Will it be hard?" she gulped, "Of course" I replied "putting your mark six times in a small box requires intense concentration and a sharp instrument." And so Emily's course of instruction started.

Emily was indeed a quick and able pupil but also very demanding, as she not only wanted to learn how to score, but also to understand as much about the game as possible. She was clearly fascinated with my helmet, "Why do you need a strap?" she asked as she carefully caressed its smooth surface. "Because if you pull to leg quickly you need to make sure it's still firmly in place" and I demonstrated the action with quick and firm hands. "Ohhh" she moaned "I love it when you use such incredible control" so to show her I knew all about being firm with her, I had her stand at short leg - "you won't be there for long without getting one right where it hurts" I warned her, but she just widened her legs and crouched down lower in readiness. I knew then that Emily was not one to take anything lying down.

Over that sultry summer we scored together regularly and without fail Emily showed enthusiastically that she had got what it takes when it came to being disciplined with new found skills. She was happy to be pinned down for hours, unable to move in case she missed any of the action, whilst I stood over her ready to admonish her with a firm reprimand if she ever forgot to check the number of balls. 

 

As the summer nights drew in it was clear that she was able to keep going longer than I was used to, so I reluctantly decided she was ready to take on the next level. "Right, you can do the friendly stuff" I told her brusquely  "but let's see how you handle the speed and the quick instant gratification of something I have been hiding from you until now - a twenty over thrash". I needn't have worried - Emily was soon whipped into a frenzy of delight as she flicked her head between the action and her delicately crafted hand, moving quickly to first put in the incoming batsman, whose massive shots went to all parts and quickly filled her box, before he was spent and she was registering the next man in who would take over with renewed vigour.

I looked on with sadness at the relish she showed at such multiple involvement - the harder it was the more she concentrated on the task in hand -  and I realised that Emily was lost to me now. I had taught her the discipline needed to handle the roughest of games and it was obvious her head was no longer turned by the idea of scoring on a friendly Sunday afternoon where the most frightening equipment on display is Nige's worn down spikes. At least, I mused as the rain started to fall and Emily desperately tried to cover her exposed set up, I wouldn't have to explain to her the truly dark arts of the Duckworth Lewis method.