Tuesday, June 11, 2019

Crimson Manor

Crimson Manor Country Club

A new job, a new apartment, and today Saturday morning, after the delivery of the sofa, it was time to discover the nearby street market. It was lively, and colorful, and the air was full of scents from fruits and spices. It was a change from London, I won't regret the exhaust fumes !

A few steps from the market square there was a public park bordered by tall Victorian apartment buildings taking advantage of the lush green view. That park was shared with an Edwardian mansion and its spacious grounds. Obviously, those born to the manor had sold part of their property to the city. I followed the tall wrought iron fence and between flowery shrubs, I saw manicured lawns and two tennis courts. 

Suddenly two young women my age ran by. Actually, they were sprinting and I didn't have time to register more than shortish navy shorts and black t-shirts. I followed the fence till the impressive entrance of the mansion. On the right side of the old revolving door, a bronze engraved plaque read Crimson Manor Country Club. 

I was reading the brunch menu next to the classy plaque when two young women exited the revolving door. They looked vaguely familiar; they could be the two runners I had seen between the shrubs of the mansion's park. They were wearing grey and navy trimmed monogrammed cardigans over sparkling white blouses with striped ties and navy tartan mini kilts with cream knee high socks.

I entered and was surprised to find an elegant lobby with leather armchairs, oriental rugs, and wood paneling. I smiled for the young receptionist. She was wearing a classic Chanel like business suit with a knee length pencil skirt and a small name badge on her lapel. I understood that the navy tartan mini kilt isn't an employee uniform, and it made sense, that kilt was quite short.

I was directed to a table overlooking the lawn and a superb bush of English red roses. I smoothed my skirt as I sat down. A smiling waitress offered coffee, tea or San Pellegrino. I accepted the pink Italian soda water. The brunch buffet was superb, and after a thick slice of roast ham with new potatoes I had a lemon sherbet. While waiting for a cappuccino I read the country club's brochure mentioning the tennis courts and other equipments.

One leaflet offered, "Performance coaching for amateur athletes. Our French-Scottish coach, Mr Martin-Lewis will help you reach your best potential with time proven traditional methods..."

 I was intrigued. The leaflet came with an application form, and the first week was free. I filled it up, Julia Meredith, age 24, single, secretary... Under "Goals" I wrote, running the Paris marathon and learning how to play good tennis..." The waitress brought my cappuccino and offered to take the completed from to the "Academy".

A few minutes late a mid forty woman with a classic nurse uniform came by. "Miss Meredith, I am nurse De Vere, thank you for having completed our application form. I have to check a few vitals, such as your blood pressure. Would you please follow me..."

Her office was professionally equipped and after having measured my height, she checked my blood pressure. "I also need your exact weight, please strip." She had said that with the tone of someone who isn't accustomed to repeat herself. I silently mouthed a wide "Oh!" and blushed. I timidly undid the buttons of my blouse. Fully naked I stood on the scale with my left hand in front of my curls and my right arm in front of my breasts. I remembered school; we were allowed to keep our knickers for the yearly physicals. 

She wrote down my weight, and gave me a large plastic tray with the navy shortish shorts and t-shirt I had seen earlier. I hastily dressed with the training outfit, and the shorts felt very short ! I tried to adjust them, but it was pointless. I was intrigued by the DA monogram decorating my t-shirt.

After having given me a pair of trainers nurse De Vere lead me to a large ground floor office with a huge old wooden desk between two comfy leather chairs and a tall high tech office chair. "Please stand there, Mr Martin-Lewis will be with you shortly..." She had indicated a spot in front of the desk. I remembered waiting in front of the desk of the principal as a schoolgirl. While I again tried to adjust my mini shorts, and suddenly I heard a commanding voice, "Hands at your sides Julia !"

He was in his mid thirties, very tall, very fit, dressed with a navy tracksuit decorated with the same monogram as the one on my t-shirt. He was dishy !

"Please complete and sign the consent and confidentiality form on the desk." He walked around the room and I blushed as I imagined him watching my derriere up in the air while I bend down to read, "Discipline Academy, I Julia Meridith agree to be disciplined as Mr Martin-Lewis decides if my performances aren't what they are expected..." I now understood the DA monogram, and for a few seconds I was hesitant, my would be coach must have noticed that and answered my silent questions,

"You will be spanked on your bare bottom !"
"Oh!"
"If warranted I also have a martinet, a strap and a tawse. If you gain more than two pounds you will be caned..."
"Ah!"
"Julia, were you spanked when in school ?"
I nodded with a blush.
"Why ?"
"Poor grades..."
"Poor grades, Sir !"
He had said that with his commanding voice of earlier, and I repeated my answer as told,
"Poor grades, Sir !"
"Were you also strapped ?"
"Yes Sir."
"Did your grades improve ?"
I nodded and whispered, "Yes Sir..."
"I promise that you will be running the Paris Marathon in 3 hours, and after the marathon you will be taught to play tennis well enough to beat any amateur !"
"Last but not least, your first week is free. If you sign up fees are paid in advance, every 3 months, and there's no refund."
I took a deep breath and signed !

From the large window of his office he showed me the running track zigzagging between shrubs and bushes, "I will time you. You already know what will happen if you aren't giving it your best effort..."
I ran and ran, and came back panting !
He took a few steps to grab my little shorts, and pulled them down to my knees in one swift move, I felt my cheeks blushing. I hurriedly had both my hands in from of my sex. He sat down on a straight back chair and grabbed my wrists to bend me over his knees. He brought my right arm into the small of my back. I was again a schoolgirl about to be spanked on her bare bottom by the principal. He spanked my derriere and thighs long and hard. I pedaled my legs...
"Pull your shorts up and run again !"
I had never received such a severe spanking, my bottom and thighs were throbbing.



I ran, and ran as fast as I could. The thought of showing my red bottom and thighs to everyone about was a great incentive. I saw the waitress dressing the tables for dinner. She had a wide grin. I found a second or third puff of breath to accelerate !
"Bravo Julia, you have gained 47 seconds !"

He gave me the same mini kilt outfit I had already seen. "You will always wear your Discipline Academy uniform when visiting the Country Club, that also includes the commutes..." He also gave me a small monogrammed backpack with my clothes and a spare uniform.

He offered his attached bathroom for me to dress. I looked back in the tall mirror behind the door. If I walked carefully, it the wind was merciful I wouldn't show how I was spanked like a naughty schoolgirl.

Back in his office he inspected me. As he slowly walked around me, he suddenly pulled up my shortish kilt and commented, "That was only a taste. Next Saturday you will report for your first assessment and decide if you are signing up. During the week, you will follow a training program tailor made for you, and you will be supervised by my assistants..." He finally let go of my kilt.

On the way back home, the wind wasn't too merciful, and worse was having to bend down to pick up an Amazon box too big for my mailbox. I overheard two old ladies, "Discipline Academy ! Well known for character building !" I hurried up the stairs to my new apartment. As soon as I had closed the door I stood in front of my standing mirror and bend as I had to for picking up that big box. Those ladies, probably neighbors, had seen my crimson thighs and my white knickers barely covering my well spanked derriere.
"Serves you right ! Next time you give it all you have from the first attempt, and hope its good enough !"

Next day was Sunday. I pulled up my Discipline Academy mini kilt in front of my tall mirror and saw that my bottoms was as good as new. I took my new bike out of my garage and leisurely rode to the Crimson Manor Country Club. I was scheduled for swimming dozens of pool lengths. I reported to the pool master, "Good morning Sir, I am Julia, a new girl, and I don't have a swimming cossie..."
"Good morning, Julia, you have been assigned cabin number 17 where you will find what you need..."

I discovered a pair of large towels and two navy bikinis. I immediately noticed how the bikini's bottom wouldn't be covering much.
I again reported to the pool master, he assigned me a lane. A very fit woman in her mid forties wearing a one piece navy swimsuit introduced herself as Josy, "I'll be timing you..." I nodded, and she warned, "Don't pee in the pool ! There's a special chemical and you will be spotted. Have a look over there, its the corner for wee wee girls..." I saw a tall girl with a very red bare bottom and glowing thighs. She had her hands on her head and her elbows touched the wall. Next to her from a peg on the wall was hanging her navy bikini bottom with a tell tale pink streak. I went to the loo before my swim.

I gave it all I had and Josy was happy, "Phew!"
Later, by the showers I met a few girls. They were all in their twenties, as me. I told of my goal or running the Paris Marathon. One of them, named Daniella enthusiastically chimed, "Same here, and we'll have a romantic dinner at a street side café on the Place Saint Michel, with a couple of dashing young French men..."
I gave her high five, "I am game !"

I noticed a gold star sewn on the front left side of her knickers, "You got a gold star ?!"
She was no longer enthusiastic as she explained, "You get a gold star to sew on all your knickers, bikinis and shorts for each caning,.. You might also be caned in front of the whole Academy..."
I immediately felt silly when asking, "On the bare in front of everyone !?"
"Yes, from your socks to your navel, as you have to take off your knickers and kilt."
"But we get caned only for putting on weight..."
"Nope, if you are late for more than two lessons you will be caned..."
Another girl named Amelia added, "Not to forget the martinet each time you're late !"
Michelle, the girl who had stood in the wee wee corner was obviously a newbie and she asked about the martinet.
Johanna answered, "It stings like the devil, but it doesn't bruise. After two or three days the marks are gone."

Monday I was back to work. It was a great job, I was the second assistant to the VP. He liked me, and Mrs Forsythe, his old first assistant, had taken me under wing. At 5 PM I changed in the loo and rushed, and just about bumped into her. She noticed my DA uniform, "Discipline Academy, excellent program !"

High above the saddle I pedaled as fast as I could and my short kilt flew and a few boys whistled !
I was 6 minutes late when I reported to the fitness room supervisor. He gave me a red card reading 6, and sternly ordered, "Take it to Mr Martin-Lewis !"
I gently knocked on the door with the gold plate. Through the door I heard my coach's booming voice, "Enter !"

"Good evening Sir, I am very sorry, I am late for my fitness exercises..." I gave him the red card.
"More than 5 minutes, you will be severely punished. Take off your kilt and knickers for the martinet." I didn't keep my hands in front of my femininity for long. He showed me the handlebar on the gym machine in the corner of his office, "Grab it and don't let go or I'll use a strap !" I was on tip toes.
With the martinet he whipped my bottom and thighs, back and front. I danced !
I desperately wanted to rub my fiery bottom and legs. He ordered, "No rubbing !  Shorts on, grab your backpack, return to the fitness room and start on the treadmill !"

Back in the fitness room I couldn't help rubbing my stingy thighs. Adrian, the fitness coach grabbed me under his arm, pulled my little shorts up and spanked my already burning bottom and thighs, "You were told not to rub ! Treadmill number 7 and you run it till it beeps, or else !"

As I walked toward the number 7 treadmill, at the other end of the large fitness room, I noticed how DA girls weren't the only women to be working on the various machines. I blushed as I realized that I was spanked in front of everyone, and my bottom was just about bare !

Later, when I changed back into my mini kilt I stood in front of the tall mirror of the changing room, my punishment was quite visible. As I rode back home I tried to keep my shortish kilt down. I wasn't too successful and a few boys laughed !

Tomorrow came and I had a serious dilemma, what to wear for the office !? Wearing trousers was out of the question, Mrs Forsythe had once said that good girls have to wear a skirt. I didn't have any granny skirts reaching under my knees. I also didn't have a pencil skirt. I had to make do with a straight skirt which didn't reach my knees

Till lunch at the corporate cafeteria I hadn't drawn any curiosity. That's probably why I forget to pull on my skirt as I sat in front of my tray. Mrs Forsythe joined me and discreetly whispered, "Pull your skirt down, you don't want to advertise that you got a good whipping with the martinet ! I'll let you leave earlier from now on..." I hastily pulled on my skirt. "Thank you Ma'am."

Around 4:45 PM Mrs Forsythe suggested the small archive room behind our office for me to change into my Discipline Academy uniform. It was indeed more comfy than the loo. Once she saw me dressed with my mini kilt she gently teased, "You are the picture of a naughty girl who was well punished !" I tried pulling on my kilt, to hide the marks left by the martinet, it was useless.

I was a very good girl at the academy. I ran as fast as I could, and was complimented. The still very red marks of the martinet decorating my bottom and thighs must have helped. I again especially sped when following the fence over overlooking the public park...

When back in the dressing room, Louise, the top pupil, chimed, "Latest news, notice posted on the bulletin board an hour ago, its the tawse if you were disciplined twice during the week..."
I stammered, "b... b... but my first spanking was part of my assessment."
"You will probably only taste the strap..."
Michelle, the other new girl, was also told by Louise to expect the strap instead of the tawse. She mused, "I remember my father's belt, that was hot !"
Louise laughed, "The strap is hotter, and Mr Martin-Lewis is probably fitter than your father, and be thankful it isn't the tawse !"

Then it was Saturday. Daniella, Michelle and me, we were waiting on the bench outside the office dressed with our DA uniforms. We weren't too chatty ! We were expecting to be called one by one, but Mr Martin-Lewis called us together.

"You three have been punished twice this week. We haven't had such indiscipline for weeks. Take your kilt and knickers off and keep your hands on your head. Julia, you are first. I will be lenient since it is your first week. I'll spare you the tawse." He pulled the wooden chair he used for over the knee spankings and set it in the middle of the room. "Bend over the back of that chair and grab the seat."

I blushed as I felt my bare bottom being well exposed because of that tall chair. Louise was right, the strap was hotter than the belt. He also smacked my thighs and I tap danced; "Stand up, hands on your head. Take Monday off and decide on Tuesday if you are signing on." 

Michelle was next and she got the same as me. Daniella got the tawse. It wasn't a Loghgelly, but it was thicker than the strap. It wasn't about bruising for days, it was about a fiery sting. While my friends were punished I stood with my hands on my head shamefully exposing my curls, and my glowing and throbbing derriere and thighs.

On Tuesday I signed, and for a few weeks I was a very good girl steadily making progress.
Then I missed a lesson, and I made up a silly excuse. I had also gained more than two pounds, two caning offences...

"Julia you will be severely punished. You will be caned in front of the whole academy !"
Saturday morning, the day of my caning had come. All of the Discipline Academy girls as well as Joseph the swimming coach, and Adrian the fitness coach were there. All of them were sitting around a low rising stage with a leather vaulting horse. 

Mr Martin-Lewis swished the cane through the air and the menacing hissing sound had me shuddering. I recalled Louise having said, "Its a junior rattan cane for a very stingy punishment without too much bruising, and light enough to be applied across your thighs..."

"Julia, take off your kilt and knickers, bend over the horse and spread your legs."
It wasn't the first time I would be exposing my bare bottom in front of my coach and a few friends, but this time everyone was there, as well as Adrian and Joseph who had never seen my bare bottom.

I was already blushing as I took my kilt and knickers off. I bend over the vaulting horse, and slowly opened my legs. I realized that I was showing everything I have in front of a room full of people. I blushed to my ears with shame. I was a naughty girl about to be severely punished, and I had to admit that it was well deserved as I had lied about that missed lesson.

SWISH! THWACK! Barely a split second between the swishing sound and the fiery stripe across my bottom. I gasped. The following strokes were perfectly parallel. I felt each of them fiercely burning my derriere.
Then the cane whipped the back of my thighs, and I couldn’t help howling !
‘Let that be a lesson to you Julia. You will remain in position for 10 minutes. Come Monday you will have sewn a gold star on all your academy knickers, bikinis and shorts."

Monday at the office Mrs Forsythe noticed how I was fidgeting in my office chair. She said come here with the voice of an aunt noticing that her niece was punished at school. I complied with a blush, and as soon as I was in reach she swiftly pulled up my office skirt with both hands. She saw the crimson cane marks and the gold star sewn on my white knickers. 

"You were caned, and was awarded a gold star ! What did you do to deserve a caning ?" She kept my skirt pulled up as I timidly told her why. "You lied ! Well deserved !"
Mr Martin-Lewis kept his promised and I ran the Paris marathon in 3 hours. I also had a great evening with Daniella and dishy young French men..."

Julia
 
PS : You are invited to play with us !
Please visit the Oaks and Pines Entry Hall to learn more about our game
(Adults only)

To be continued...

Friday, June 7, 2019

A changing room story

A pic story...






 
PS : You are invited to play with us !
 
Please visit the Oaks and Pines Entry Hall to learn more about our game
 

Tuesday, June 4, 2019

Unfinished business

Unfinished business

We were newly wed. Jason was doing very well, actually much better than very well. We had a lovely house, I had finished decorating it. We were now serious about having a child. I had us on the right diets, and we worked with a thermometer and a calendar. I was alone from 8 am till 7 pm because of his commute to the City. A child would keep me busy...

Meanwhile I helped him with entertaining his colleagues and their wives. The boys spoke of the stock exchange, interest rates and taxes. I was usually disappointed by their wives. Most of them were only about spending the money their husbands made. Some had children and didn't bother accompanying them.

I wasn't exactly new to that part of the woods, but our house was located in a new development away from the village. I had been busy with decorating shops and department stores. I hadn't had time for more than shopping at the supermarket which was also on the outskirts of the village. I had of course driven through the village, and that brought back a flood of memories.


A few days later I forgot Jason's favorite beer, and I went to the old grocery shop and pharmacy of the village. Mr and Mrs Frobisher were still running it and they still had an impressive array of goods. They had wide warm smiles as they queried, "Ma'am .... aren't you Catriona ?"

I nodded, "Yes Ma'am, and Sir..."

"You've returned ?"

"I am now married, and we have a house at McLean Gardens..."

They gave me the beer for Jason, and a flyer with a picture of the old school, "The Department of Education has closed it, and Miss Fritton is trying to save it. She is calling for an alumina reunion  this Saturday..."

"Miss Fritton !"

I remembered, she was the Principal and taught French. She wanted us to call her Madame la Directrice...

Saturday morning we bought a couple of bicycles, and after lunch I dragged Jason to my old school. I found old friends and we exchanged hugs and kisses. We proudly introduced our husbands, but they were soon bored as they felt left out, and deserted us. We shrugged and giggled the more as we recalled old stories.

The single classroom was filled with different former classes, and a number of villagers had also joined.

Miss Fritton entered the classroom with her famous old line, "Ceci est une école, pas un poulailler !" Her former pupils laughed.

She announced, "The Department of Education won't maintain the school, but it has agreed to lease it to the village for a token fee. For the village to afford its maintenance it is to be turned into a museum to be visited for a fee in the afternoon. In the morning I will offer French lessons for a fee which will be shared between the village and me. Additionally we are asking for your donations to get us started..." After a pause she added, "The Mayor feels the museum should be a favorite with numerous tourists curious of our education system. Not to forget that tourism is good for business. Please be generous !"

A hand was raised, "For the French lessons who will you be teaching ?"

"Only young ladies with an advanced level..."

Later, Jason teased as I told him that I registered for French lessons, "Isn't French the only O-levels you flanked ?

I nodded and blushed.

She probably hadn't tanned your bum enough !"

"Grgrgrgrgr!"

"Hopefully she'll be doing a better job this time !"

"Beast !"

"Hahaha ! I might help her !"

"Huh!!!!"


For a first class Miss Fritton had us take a multiple choice quiz. We remained silent as she corrected our work. She had frowned a few times while doing so. She handed us our quizzes with a grade, I had 9/20...

From the museum display she took down a strap, a junior cane and a martinet and she hung them from a peg next to the blackboard. She also wrote on that blackboard, "La fessée déculottée devant toute la classe pour les notes inférieures à 12/20..."

"Angela please stand an translate..."

"A bare bottom spanking in front of the whole class for grades below 12/20..."

"Girls it is now the moment of truth. Are you going to be serious about your French O-levels ? Are you going to have the courage of taking the challenge of lessons with old fashioned discipline ?"

No one left the classroom.

"Excellent ! I promise that you will have your French O-levels with honors !"

"For your lesson in a week you will be wearing the old school uniform. Cambridge has a lovely shop for school uniforms if you haven't kept your old one..."

"Catriona and Lucinda, the two pupils who failed their French O-levels... my two greatest failures... We have unfinished business... I am sure that you remember how I promised you the cane if you failed... You must have thought I was joking... You are today going to find out that I wasn't ! You two are staying behind, others may go..."

"Come to the front Catriona, you are first, bend over my chair and grab its seat..."

The reality of the last few minutes sank in as I stood on the teacher's stage. I had to ask myself if I had the courage mentioned earlier by Miss Fritton. I blushed as I saw the whole class looking in from the tall windows. For all of them I'll be a coward if I walk out. I felt my skirt riding up my legs as I grabbed the seat of that chair.

Miss Fritton with both hands yanked my skirt up, and swiftly pulled my knickers down. I was showing my bare bottom and my curls to everyone. I blushed to my ears.



The cane hissed through the air and a split second later I felt a stripe of fire bisecting my derriere. I gasped, "Oh!"

I jumped, let go of the seat, and one of my legs freed of my knickers kicked up. "Ouch!"

"If you do that again the stroke will be repeated !"

Five more times she caned my nates, and I felt each of them till they blended together to give me an incandescent derriere.

"In the corner and keep your skirt up !"

"Lucinda you're next..."

We walked our bicycles back home as well chastened schoolgirls who had flunked their exams.

Jason was back early and he saw me rubbing my skirt over my bottom. "Naughty girl ! Spanked on your first day back at school, come here,..."

I demurely stood next to his armchair. "Turn around, let me see..."

He pulled my skirt up and I blushed.

"Whoa! What happened ?" He pulled my knickers down as he said that and I blushed the more.

"I was caned for having flunked my French O-levels... She had promised it at the time..."

"And she remembered !"

I nodded

"Well deserved !"

"Please give me a rub..."

"OK, go an get your Nivea..."

He had me over his knees and gently rubbed my still blazing derriere... Bliss !


Next morning very early Lucinda and I drove to Cambridge and that school uniform shop. We had decided to be there for the opening. Hopefully there wouldn't be anyone there. We nonetheless dreaded the face à face with the attendant,

"We'll tell that it is for our daughters who are the same size as us !"

"Silly! We don't even look half the age to have daughters our size !"

"We'll tell them that it is for a party..."

"For a party you can buy a school uniform for £ 50 on the Internet..."

"Well, you have a better idea ?!"

At the Cambridge school uniform shop we of course went straight to the girls department. A young lady welcomed us. We gave her the uniform specifications Miss Fritton had given us. Then came THE question. "Which size ?"

"Its for us..."

Both the lady's eyebrows almost left her forehead, and she did her best to refrain from mouthing a huge silent oh! I saw Lucinda blushing, and wanted to tell her to stop that...

We were showed the fitting rooms. "We'll take the big one, we'll help each other..."

Suddenly as we were standing with nothing more than school blouses and knickers the curtains were suddenly opened by a cleaning lady, "Oops! Soz !" She immediately closed them.

We again looked in the tall mirror and again saw the glowing marks escaping our new school knickers. Our silent question was answered as we overheard from the other side of the curtains,

"Six of the best, each of them..."

"They might be attending a remedial school..."

After that we had lunch at a great Cambridge restaurant and we whispered and laughed, "You blushed as red as the stripes decorating your bum !"

"And so did you !"

"What did Derek say when you told him that you were caned ?"

"Well deserved !"

"Jason said the same thing, and he gave me a great rub..."

"I also got a lovely rub, but Derek said that he would be asking Miss Fritton for a monthly report card .... and warned me that I might feel his belt across my butt if it isn't satisfactory...."

"Same warning from Jason... We will have to seriously prep our lessons..."


Then came the time for our first lesson. We were wearing the uniform of the old school, navy blazer with white blouse and stripped ties in blue and white, above the knees grey pleated skirt, knee high matching socks, and etc. Some had kept their old uniforms and some had visited that shop in Cambridge.

Miss Fritton announced, "We will have classes on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, from 8:30 till noon, with a mid morning break. We will start with reading your essays or a quiz on the homework I gave you the day before. We'll continue with a dictée. I'll address your short comings before the break. Then we will have a grammar lesson and finally we will have conversation. I will be recording you to help you work on your accent..."

During the break we told of our misadventure at the Cambridge uniform shop. Angela and Mary-Anne laughed, "When we were at that shop we overheard two attendants chatting. Lets try remembering their chat..."
"Same uniform as the two with the caned butts !"
And same age...
Same age as us...
It must be a remedial school...
I would be mortified to be again caned..."

Miss Fritton rang the old bell to call us back in class. Her lessons were very interesting as she added plenty of details on France's history and geography. The sequence of recording us and working our accent was fascinating. She returned the martinet, the cane and strap on the museum display for the afternoon visitors.

She mused, "Its amazing, half the visitors are French !"

After our lessons I was waiting for Lucinda on the bench in the green between our old school and the new one. Suddenly I was assaulted by an impie of teenage uniformed girls.
"I am telling you these old girls get the cane just like we do !"
"Want to bet ?"
"£10 if she has a stripped booty !"
"You're on !"
I protested and tried fighting them, but I was over powered. Four of them were holding my arms and two more flipped my skirt up and lowered my knickers to my knees.
"Oh!"
"Look at that caned ass, fainted stripes, but still quite visible !"
One of them counted them, "It was 6 of the best !"
Another one chimed, "Look at her tuft, she's a real red hair !"
I blushed crimson !



Then I heard the hissing sound of a cane and a few meaty thwacks followed by painful squeals, "Let go of my girl !" It was Miss Fritton.
Lucinda was swinging her satchel and smacked one of them. They disappeared and I hurriedly pulled my knickers up and adjusted my skirt.
I warmly thanked both Miss Fritton and Lucinda...

For the next few classes Lucinda and I did our best and our derrieres recovered their natural rosy color. However we were struggling with the 12/20 minimum grade...

Then there was the day of the dictation test with complex 'passé simple' verbs and it was a disaster. I had 8/20... Miss Fritton wasn't too happy. "I should be happy that none of you had less than 8/20, that would have meant the strap... but 8/20 is a far cry from my 12/20 requirement..."

She picked up the martinet, "I am going to introduce you to Monsieur le Martinet... a wonderful French invention for a very stingy chastisement without much bruising..." She paused before adding, "Which allows your good teacher not to be restricted to the usual 6 or 12 strokes..."

She pulled her chair away from her desk and called, "Catriona you are first ! Up on the stage, take off your knickers and leave them on my desk, bend over the back of my chair and grab its seat..." I was already blushing to my ears as I felt my skirt riding up, but I blushed as a peony when she pulled my skirt up till revealing to the whole class my bare bottom and my "tuft" as those nasty schoolgirls had called my curls.

"I am going to give you la fessée au martinet as it is given to lazy French schoolgirls..." She whipped my bottom and thighs, and I hooped from foot to foot. The leather thongs wrapped around and decorated the front of my thighs. It was so stingy ! She didn't count the strokes, and it felt like an eternity.

"Stand up, and don't rub !"

She rolled my skirt up, back and front, to expose my blazing and well decorated derriere and thighs.

"In the corner with you hands on your head !"

desperately wanted to rub...

"Lucinda. 9/20, you are next !"

Angela and Mary-Anne were only hand spanked because they had reached 10/20...

We decided to ride our bikes as fast as we could on the way back home, "Never mind what we will be showing, it will be better than slowly walking down the street while the wind plays with our skirts..."

"CRASH!!!!!" A cat had sped across the street, and I skidded while avoiding it. I sat on the sidewalk nursing a bloody knee while Lucinda picked up my bike. A matronly lady stepped out of her house, and offered to clean my injured knee. She invited us into her kitchen. I timidly pulled up my skirt. She pushed it up further and saw the marks of the martinet. While cleaning my knee with alcohol. She commented, "You have been a naughty girl !" I winced for the alcohol and she added, "I know of your uniform, its the one of the old school... You are attending Miss Fritton's French lessons ?" We blushed and nodded.

I will ask Wilbur, my husband, to have a look at your bike. She returned a minute later and hubby had an eyeful of my reddened thighs and white school knickers. I hastily pulled my skirt down...

Five minutes later I had a large band-aid covering most of my knee, and we pushed our bikes down the street. Lucinda mused, "Seems like most of the villagers knows of Miss Fritton's methods..."

When back home Jason said that the martinet was well deserved, and he also had a look at my bike. He helped with dinner and while we watched the telly he checked my knee, and applied a new band-aid, "A scraped knee and reddened thighs, you are looking the part of the naughty schoolgirl... yummmm...."

Monsieur le Martinet had impressed all of us, those who tasted it and those who had seen it teaching Lucinda and I the naughty French schoolgirl dance. For a few weeks Miss Fritton offered only a few slaps on thighs and one bare bottom spanking for Susan...

"With a miracle we might make the grade for the end of term report..." Said Lucinda,

"You and Derek are invited for lunch this coming Sunday..."

Friday morning before going to work Jason ordered, "Your report card should be in the mail today .... don't open it .... we will review it on Sunday after lunch. You have invited Lucinda and Derek ?"

"Yes dear... I will prepare a rack of lamb..."

Our last lesson of the month was more relaxed, we worked our accent with help of the tape recorder. Miss Fritton mentioned before letting us off, "A few of your husbands and companions have requested monthly report cards. They are in the mail. I approve of their interest in your progress. I have added comments and recommendations for rewards or..." She paused before adding, "...or punishment !"

Sunday morning Jason asked me to wear a skirt, "...a short one .... that's easy to pull up !" I gulped. I hadn't opened the envelope with the crest of the old school. His request didn't bode well of the afternoon review of my monthly report.

Lucinda and Derek were in time, and she wore an A-line blue jean mini skirt identical to mine. We had bought them together a week ago. Lunch was great and I was complimented for my perfectly cooked rack of lamb. Lucinda helped me clear the dinning room table.

The boys sat next to each other on the wider side of the table, as if a tribunal, and with teasingly stern grins. We demurely and apprehensively stood in front of them. They opened our report cards and read them aloud. They were similar, we had made great progress, and we could hope to have our O-levels, "...if lucky to avoid a passé simple quiz !" There was more, "I have requested a minimum grade of 12/20, with 10.75/20 we are still far from that..." The conclusion was expected, "I am recommending a severe fessée..."

The boys stood and removed their belts, "A good old fashion belting as your fathers used to give you... We have called them, and they said not to forget your thighs !"

"Up with your skirts, down with your knickers and bend over the table."

The room echoed with the belt smacking our bare bottom and thighs. Twice I was silly and opened my legs and Jason's belt wrapped around to decorate the front of my thighs. The belt left wide blazing stripes. I didn't remember of my dad's belt being as fiery, maybe its because he couldn't afford an alligator leather belt.

They hadn't given us more than a classic schoolgirl belting, and stood us in the corner with our hands on our heads and our burning bare bottom on display. We were itching for a good rub ! We had plenty of time to imagine Monday, when back at school, everyone will see the marks on our thighs, everyone will know that we were belted as naughty girls...

Catriona
 
PS : You are invited to play with us !
Please visit the Oaks and Pines Entry Hall to learn more about our game
(Adults only)

(Compliments to Paula Meadows for the drawings)


Wee-wee girls

Wee-wee girls

2 AM, it was a great night, my friend Maya and I were returning to the house we share on the outskirts of the village. We had attended an old friend's bachelor party. We had drank more than a few, and were singing silly songs. We were still downtown when I told Maya, "I need to have a wee-wee, I'll never make it home !"
She chimed back, "Same here !"

Between two cars we squatted with our miniskirts up and knickers down to our knees. Just then a dog barked, and lights were turned on in the windows of the house across the street. An old lady opened her window. She must have been awaken by our earlier singing or the barking dog. She saw us pulling up our knickers after our wee-wee. She shouted, "Peeing in the street as trollops !" There was a flash and she triumphantly announced, "Got you !" We ran with a nagging question, did she really took a picture of us with our minis up...

A week later a postman rang, "Miss Sylvia Hamilton and Miss Maya Fletcher ?" I nodded and was asked to sign for two letters with the crest of the village, one for each of us. I had already opened mine when I gave Maya hers. We read,

"Indecent exposure and urinating in the street..."

"You are fined £100 for each offence..."

"If you can't pay your fines within 15 days you should request community work..."

Maya uttered, "£200 each ! We won't be able to pay the rent !"

Next day we took an hour off work and presented ourselves at the office of the Municipal Constabulary. We were quite distressed when told, "Sorry, we have filled our quota of volunteer community workers... Would you like to see the Sergeant ?"

We did, "You girls have been naughty and unlucky, that old biddy is always on the prowl... Sorry I have no community work..."
"We won't be able to pay the rent..."
"We'll be evicted..."
"We don't want that... Let me call the mayor's office..."
"Yes Sir, I understand... school cane... 8 strokes... and to wear miniskirts with decorated thighs when reporting..."
The Sergeant had turned the loudspeaker on, and we had blanched and blushed.
"You've heard .... and I won't be the village's whipper... You will have to find someone..."
"Sigh... Who...?"
"The school's matron... or the reverend... or that old biddy... I don't know..."
Maya protested, "Not that b..." She did avoid that rude word.
"You have 14 days till reporting back to this office..."

As we rode our bikes back home we considered our options, "What options ?! Moving to a trailer park or finding someone to cane our butts !"
"Don't forget the minis for showing that we were punished as naughty schoolgirls !"
"Were you caned when in school ?"
"Nope, I was mostly hand spanked .... exceptionally it was Mom's hairbrush, and you ?"
"Samo, and twice got the belt from my father..."

Saturday morning we started our quest for a chastiser with the school's matron. I told Maya, "It will be easier with a woman..."
Maya wasn't too reassured, "Some women are quite mean .... even meaner than men..."

The school's matron didn't look mean. "How may I help you ?" We showed her the letters about the fines, and explained that we can't afford to pay and no community work is available. I took a deep breath and blurted out, "Huh... we were told that we should be caned..."
"Ah! I haven't caned anyone for years, and I sure don't want to be known as the village's caning lady. Sorry, I can't help." She agreed to keep our conversation confidential, and we thanked her...

Next was the reverend. There was no reply from the house, we decided to explore the church. We were quite surprised to hear resounding smacks. We winked for each other, it sounded as a spanking in progress. We might have found a spanker, we silently approached the vestry. The door was ajar and we saw a girl our age getting a bare bottom spanking from the reverent. He was athletic and he did quite a job of it, her bottom was glowing ! He suddenly stopped, he had spotted us and teased, "What have we got here ? Two peeping girls ! You want a spanking as my naughty daughter ?"
He ordered her, "In the corner, hold your skirt up, and no rubbing !"
He turned back to us, "How may I help you ?"



We handed him the letters about our fines and he laughed, "Hahaha! You are the two girls Mrs Peabody caught peeing in the street !" We sheepishly nodded, and Maya poked me. I understood that it was again for me to do the talking. "We can't pay the fines, we wouldn't be able to pay the rent, we'd lose the house... We asked for community work, but none is available... We were told that we should be caned..."
Maya finally decided to help, "Please Sir..."
I continued, ".... we would have to move to the trailer park .... with the drug addicts..."

"We can't have that ! I might help you .... but first tell me if the two of you are living in sin ?"
I was surprised by such a question, but Maya answered, "No Sir, we aren't together, we are only sharing a house..."

"Thank the Lord ! All right, I'll help, but the only girl I have caned was my older daughter a year ago, and I no longer have a cane. You will have to buy one, actually best to buy two..."
"Where from Sir ?"
"The village convenience store, Mr and Mrs Morrison... "
We cringed when he added, "Don't forget to soak them in your bath tube the night before... We want them to be whippy."

"Phew!"
"Phew what ?! We are going to have our bums caned... and well caned... you've seen how he spanked his daughter... her bottom was crimson !"

"Lets go buy those canes..."
"Oh my ! Isn't that going to be fun... We'd like two school canes Ma'am..."
I laughed and echoed, "Who is it for, a boy or a girl, and what's his or her age ?"
"It's for us Ma'am !"
"Would you like to try them ? I could ask my husband..."

We were no longer laughing when we discreetly surveyed the shop after having parked our bikes... A couple of customers had just walked out... "Lets move ! There's only Mrs Morrison at the counter..." We were already blushing as we entered the store, and the door had chimed as loud as church bells..."
Again Maya poked me, and as fast as I could I stuttered, "Good morning Ma'am, may we please have two school canes..."
Mrs Morrison greeted us and acknowledged our request with a strange grin, "Good morning young ladies, two school canes, yes, of course..." Just then we heard the door chiming, and a middle aged couple entered...
She also greeted them, "I'll be right with you..."
She disappeared at the other end of her shop for a very long minute. Maya blushed as red as a traffic light and I felt my cheeks glowing... She reappeared with two school canes. If that couple hadn't heard her earlier, they now saw the two rods... "It will be £7.50..." We paid, and just about ran !

Then it was time for our atonement. Sunday morning before the service, we presented ourselves at the vestry wearing mini kilts which surprisingly had never felt so short. Our chastiser had asked about the skirts present in our wardrobe, and he had chosen our tartan mini kilts. "I feel like a schoolgirl about to be punished !"
Maya wasn't too supportive, "You look like a schoolgirl about to be caned !"

The reverent smiled when he saw us, "Perfect ! You both look lovely !" He turned to his daughter, the one we had already met, "I have asked Helen to witness your punishment. It is only fair since you had witnessed hers." He unwrapped the two school canes and swished them, we cringed ! "Excellent ! You girls will remember that !"

He gave his daughter a thin blue felt pen, and told her to draw a line on our thighs where our mini kilts reached.

Then he sternly commanded, "Sylvia, raise your skirt, lower you knickers to your knees, bend over the back of that chair and grab its seat..."

"Oh please Sir, its so embarrassing, may I keep my knickers, please..."

"It was on the bare for my daughter, therefore you will bare your bottom !"

He gave me a very convincing stroke across my knickers, I lowered them !
He added, "And I want to see what I am doing !"
I blushed more and more as I lowered myself over the back of that tall chair...

I heard the cane whistling through the air and a nano second later it felt like a bolt of lightning had come from the sky and struck my bare bottom. I gasped, breathed deeply, and braced myself for the next stroke... It wasn't Dad's belt ! After the second stroke my whole bottom was on fire. I stomped my feet, and my knickers fell around my ankles. Number 6 and 7 were across my tights and I almost forgot my blazing derriere...



"Oh! Ouch!"

"Stand and sit on the chair !"

I did, I'll never remember how, but I did. With the tip of the cane he raised my kilt till revealing my tuft, and the cane decorated the front of my thighs exactly one inch under the blue line drawn earlier...

"OH! OUCH!"

"Pick up your knickers and stand in the corner holding your skirt up while I deal with your friend, and no rubbing !"

My bottom and thighs were throbbing when we were told to pull our knickers up, "You will now attend the service on the first row..." Maya had escaped the corner time...

I was very self conscious when I walked down the aisle with my shortish kilt caressing my thighs above the cane marks. I felt like a well punished schoolgirl. The front row bench was hard for my sore behind, and my kilt rose as I sat. The still fiery stripe across the front of my legs was quite visible. I pulled on my kilt, it didn't help. I also squirmed from one cheek to the other. Next to me Maya sniffled, "Next time I'll wee-wee in my knickers..."

Back home we crammed into the bath tube for a long soak with Epsom salt. We also very gently massaged each other's "wounds" with all the creams we had...

"Phew!"
"That reverend is a mean old sod !"

Monday morning we called a sicky, and reported to the Municipal Constabulary. We were wearing jeans minis, because contrary to our mini kilts they didn't fly with the wind when riding our bikes. The girl at the counter indicated two soft chairs for us to wait for the Sergeant. She for sure noticed the welts on our thighs. There was no way for us to hide them. We thanked her with wide smiles...

The Sergeant was jovial as he came to greet us, "You both look great !" He closed the door of his office. It didn't offer much privacy, as it was a see through glass door. We hadn't noticed on our first visit how the wall along side the corridor was also see through glass halfway down. He sat at his desk and we remained standing. "I'll be taking pictures to close your file, not to worry about your privacy, it will be only about your derrieres..." We blushed and blushed the more as he ordered, "Turn around and please lift your miniskirts..." We were as red as poppies as we did. There was a flash and we heard hurried steps in the corridor, some constables obviously had an eyeful ! We were again facing him when he asked, "Who was it ?"
"The reverend..."
"He did a great job !"

We rode back home as fast as we could...






Sylvia and Maya

 
PS : You are invited to play with us !
Please visit the Oaks and Pines Entry Hall to learn more about our game
(Adults only)


(Compliments to Anton, Hardcastle and Paula Meadows for the drawings)