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 !"
"If warranted I also have a martinet, a strap and a tawse. If you gain more than two pounds you will be caned..."
"Julia, were you spanked when in school ?"
I nodded with a blush.
"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 ?"
"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..."
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To be continued...