Saturday, September 28, 2019

A French Girl in the UK 3/4


 Then Monday came back way too soon. April handed her signed pink slip. Uncle Peter had filled up the punishment box : "Martinet whipping and same for Isabelle who owned up being as guilty..."
 
"Martinet whipping...Quite uncommon... French implement... Stand up Isabelle. Your parents told you to bring your martinet ?"
The classroom was suddenly so quiet one could ear a fly, and I blushed. "Yes Sir... it's my martinet..."

After that it was an event-less week, and for the weekend we could again wore our jeans miniskirts. We had prepared a picnic for our boyfriends. They had an eyeful peeking under our minis as we set up the picnic. April teased them the more with bending down as if toe touching to empty the last basket !

The following week was the last one of the month, and I was hoping to have the required average of 12/20 for Uncle Peter to be happy. Patatras ! We had a very difficult English grammar dictation. I had my two free mistakes plus five. It was a zero. The teach was a meanie, "Isabelle, you will have that dictation signed by your guardians..."

Worse was to come, when we were handed our monthly report cards. I had 10.75/20. Over a full point short of the required minimum average. April had done better, but she was also short with 11.25/20. As we rode back home I anxiously questioned her, "Are we going to be caned ? I have never been caned... It must be so stingy....and having welts for days..."

She answered, "Nah, we won't be caned... but we will, for sure taste, the strap... actually it will be more than a taste... we are going to have our butts and thighs well strapped... Pops had warned us..."

"Ah!" I was speechless. I remembered Papa's last belting... I tried to imagine the strap I saw behind the kitchen door being applied to my bare bottom and thighs...

Her parents knew it was the day of the monthly report cards. We immediately saw how they were waiting for us in the lounge. We sheepishly handed them. I also handed that dictation with the zero. They frowned as they read, they didn't comment, and Uncle Peter ordered, "April please bring the strap..."

"Both of you take off your knickers and bend over the back of the sofa." Aunt Janet pulled our gymslips as far up as our navels. The back of the sofa was tall. I felt so exposed. I must have blushed to my ears. April got the first whack, and it was so loud ! I got the second one, and I gasped as I felt a wide swathe of fire across my very bare bottom. I wasn't in Kansas or France anymore, it wan't Papa's belt ! I danced from one foot to the other, and when I got it across the back of my thighs I pedaled. As April had said we would, we got a severe strapping.

Then we didn't ask why when ordered to sit on the sofa. "Pull your skirts up !" Without knickers we kept our legs tightly closed. We got a blazing stroke on the front of our thighs. "Isabelle, for that zero you are getting another one.
"Ouch!"



"No rubbing ! In the corner holding your gymslips up !" Our derrieres were ablaze and our thighs were throbbing. "Sniff.."


Later, after dinner, while we were still rubbing, I had a message from Papa, "Bien mérité, et si tu ramènes d'autres zéros tu sais ce qui t'attends. Bonne nuit ma fille. Soit sage et ramène de meilleures notes..."

(Well deserved, and you know what to expect if you have more zeros. Good night my girl. Behave and bring back better grades...)

Next day, back at Saint Angela, there was plenty of chatting while waiting in line to return our report cards duly signed by parents, guardians or whatever. The older girls who kinda look after us warmly greeted us, "Whoa! It looks like our juniors got a strapping..."
April nodded, "...and Isabelle got an extra lick to the front of her thighs because of her zero."
"So Frenchy what do you think of British discipline ?"
"Oh, là, là! Papa gave me quite a few beltings, but that strap had me dancing !"

Some of them were considered too old to be spanked by their entourage, but their entourage had no qualm with them being spanked at the college. An older girl was asked what her companion though of her report card, "Did he pulled you over his knees ?!"
"Nah... In my dreams... He's a wimp... I am going to dump him... and yours ?"
"Harry sure isn't a wimp ! He gave me a belting, and I was to stand in the corner for 10 minutes, but after 3 he couldn't wait !"
Those confidences had me daydreaming of Rory putting me across his knees and raising my little skirt and pulling down my petite culotte...

A few days later, when meeting our boyfriends, we still had decorated thighs and we again wore those kilts. April had again offered the red one because of the two welts decorating the front of my thighs. It wasn't much help, but it was kind of her. The boys saw our kilts, they knew what it meant. A look at our thighs had Edward observing, "Oh my it looks like you both got a good strapping !"
Rory echoed, "And an additional stripe for my petite française !"
April told, "Our report cards were short of my father's minimum average requirement .... and Isabelle got an extra stripe for a zero."
With humor I added, "Two stripes, I am a corporal !"

Everyone laughed, and the boys offered another movie. This time Rory and I didn't see much of it. One of his hands discovered the front closing bra I had naughtily donned this morning. He caressed my breasts one after the other. He also teased my nipples. I arched my back and kissed him breathless. His other hand caressed my thighs, and he recovered his breath to whisper, "A big spider is climbing up your thighs..."
I opened my legs, "Oh, ah..."

Later, as we pushed our bikes back home April was her usual curious one...
"Was it third base ?"
"We kissed breathless..."
"He found my front closing bra .... and this time he fully freed both my breasts and caressed them and teased my nipples..."
"And ??
It wasn't enough for my naughty friend. I continued, "He teased with whispering, "A big spider is climbing up your thighs..."
"And ???"
I blushed...
"Did he finger your cherry ?"
I timidly whispered, "Yes..."
"Its third base !"

Isabelle and April

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Wednesday, September 25, 2019

Exercise book a pic story


Pics from an old issue of Janus

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Saturday, September 21, 2019

A French Girl in the UK part 2/4


 I was lucky to be in the same classroom as April. I sat next to her and carefully toed the line behind her. The teacher introduced the new girls, "Isabelle Leclercq please stand up." I stood. "Isabelle is French and after her baccalaureate she is taking our A-levels to improve her English. While in our country she is a ward of April's parents. Except for English grammar she will be treated without special leniency. We will grant her one or two free grammatical errors in dictation. You may sit down Isabelle." I was warned ! 

I sailed through my first week without showing my knickers to everyone. I was actually shown plenty of leniency. I didn't expect as much leniency in my second week. All was peachy till Friday. We forgot our textbooks for chemistry. The teacher gave April a pink slip to be signed by her parents and announced that he wouldn't give me one as a last show of leniency. I was invited to remain after class...

Everyone had left the classroom. I stood alone by my desk, and the teach barked, "I am not letting you off ! Come here !" When I was within his reach he grabbed my ear. I hadn't had my ears grabbed since primary school. He flipped me over his knees and briskly raised my skirt and lowered my knickers. "Oh!" I felt as a silly little girl, but it wasn't a little girl spanking, It was a very severe spanking, and the more so when he smacked my thighs ! "Ouch!"



Later when I rejoined April I was still rubbing my skirt over my fiery bottom and thighs. "Grgrgrgr! He spanked me... cul nu !"
"Cul nu ?"
"Butt naked !"

When back home April had to have her pink slip signed by her Mum or Dad. She decided to take the plunge before dinner. "I am sorry, I have a pink slip..." Her father took it and read, 'April forgot her chemistry textbooks...' "Not the crime of the century..."
I was as guilty as April, and felt it wouldn't be fair to escape her father's punishment.
"Sir, please, I also forgot my textbooks, the teacher was lenient, he didn't give me a pink slip..." I sputtered with a blush as I added, "I was... I was given a spanking..."
"Turn around, lift your skirt and lower your knickers for me to inspect that teacher's handiwork..."
I slowly lowered my knickers in front of Uncle Peter for the first time. I felt my cheeks blushing, and blushed some more as my derriere was eventually bared.
"Hum .... barely reddened .... was it on your bare bottom ?"
"Yes Sir..."
"It is quite honorable to be owning up. Good girl ! I'll take that into account..."
"I should be punished as April..."
"Very well, April, please give me that martinet .... both of you take your knickers off and hold your skirts up."
I hesitated before taking my knickers down, but April had already taken hers off. I blushed as I hurriedly complied. I guessed it wouldn't be a good idea to keep him waiting ! It was going to be my first punishment from Uncle Peter. I was so embarrassed, I tried to cover my front with my gymslip. I felt a stingy martinet whipping across my bottom as he repeated, "Hold your skirt up !" He alternated from one to the other as he whipped our bottoms and thighs. We danced trying to avoid the fiery leather tongs, but it was futile.


Later April gave me a hug, "That was very brave !"
I sighed, "Tomoz, Saturday morning, when meeting with the boys we'll still have those martinet stripes on our thighs..."
We rubbed and rubbed with all the creams and lotions we had till having to turn off our lights.

Next morning, "Oh no ! Look at those stripes !" With raised nighties we inspected each other... "We best forget the minis from last weekend !"
The longest skirts we could find were an inch above our knees, and they were kilts, one in red Royal Stewart and the other in Scotland's blue...
"With the red tartan the stripes won't be as conspicuous..."
April generously offered me to wear the red royal tartan.

At the lake the boys greeted us with pecks on both cheeks. Rory being Scottish appreciated the kilts, and it took only one minute for them to spot the stripes on our thighs. Edward teased, "Rory old boy, our girls have been naughty and they got a swishing !" We were sitting at a popular lake side terrace for a cappuccino. Eddy teasingly pulled up April's kilt. He only revealed about two inches. She slapped his hands. Rory answered, "It wasn't a swishing, it was a French martinet whipping !" He gave me a wide interrogative grin. I nodded with a blush. Edward wanted the whole story. April made him beg for it, and eventually told. "....then Isabelle surprisingly owned up... and we both received the martinet." Rory was curious and asked me, "Its your martinet, isn't it ?" I again nodded with a blush.

Then the boys took us to see a movie. April and Eddy didn't see much of it. Rory and me did see more. His hands were allowed to be a little more adventurous...but not too much !

April again wanted to know the details !
"We again kissed...French kissed..."
"And !?"
"One of his hands was under my skirt..."
"And !?"
"I stopped it before reaching my knickers !"
She nodded, "And !?"
"His other hand opened my blouse and pushed my bra out of the way... " I blushed as I added, "...and he caressed my tities..."
"And !?"
"And you're a minx !"
"Bare tits and bare thighs, its second base !"

Isabelle and April

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Wednesday, September 18, 2019

Recorder practice a pic story





Pics from an old issue of Blushes or Uniform Girls...

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Saturday, September 14, 2019

A French girl in the UK part 1/4


I am 18 and French, my name is Isabelle Leclercq. I had my baccalaureate with honors, and I am to attend a business school, but first I have to improve my English. For that I will be spending a year in the UK with friends of my parents and their daughter.

Mr and Mrs Warwick welcomed me with opened arms, "We now have another daughter !" April their daughter, same age as me, silently giggled and I winked at her. Next year she will be staying with us in France to improve her French before attending a well known university. This  coming year we are both to prepare our A-levels at Saint Angela a very exclusive public school, which is private as everyone knows. Les Britanniques are at times so confusing with their private public schools and puddings.

Mr Warwick frowned, "Isabelle dear, I believe that you have something to hang behind the kitchen door..."
I blushed as I answered, "Yes Sir..."
I returned to the lovely room they allocated me and extracted my martinet with its nasty leather thongs from my suitcase. I had often visited with my parents and knew where to find the kitchen. I sheepishly walked by my guardians and April to hung my martinet next to a couple of school canes and a strap. I shuddered as I felt one of those canes...



They had prepared a lovely dinner for me, and we watched the telly together. Then April and I chatted while I emptied my suitcase. She spotted a pair of jeans, "You can leave it in your suitcase. You forgot that in this house girls wear skirts !"
"Oops! Silly me !"
She pulled out my latest jeans miniskirt, "Whoa!"
I anxiously asked, "Your mother won't disapprove ?"
"We will know soon enough, I bought one just as short only yesterday..."
We were told to turn off our lights...

Next morning while we were having breakfast Uncle Peter crossed a few T's, "Dear Isabelle, Saint Angela was informed, we will be signing your report cards, and pink slips..."
I raised both eyebrows for the pink slips, but I didn't ask for details.
"As April you are to maintain an average grade of 12/20 or you will be punished..."

Auntie Janet gave me a large shopping bag from Harrods, "This is your school uniform with several gymslips, blouses, ties, socks, knickers..." She also gave me a set of keys and mentioned, "This is the key for the bike we bought you..."
"Thanks Uncle Peter and Auntie Janet !"

I couldn't call them Papa and Maman, but we agreed that I would call them Uncle Peter and Auntie Janet. Of course at times, when about to be disciplined it will be Sir and Ma'am. Actually April also calls her father Sir when about to be chastised.

We have a weekend to enjoy before attending our new school. We waited for Uncle Peter to take the family car to the car-wash before wearing our new minis. We know how fathers and uncles are always protective of their little girls. Auntie Janet understands that girls our age have to start competing for boyfriends, but she advised us to pull our skirts down when around Monsieur. I know quite well of his test for skirt length, Papa has the same : touch-your-toes-if-your-knickers-are-showing your thighs will be well smacked, and you will have to change into a longer skirt.

April introduced me to Edward aka Eddy, her boyfriend. He was accompanied by a friend who was told of 'la petite française'. With a glorious smile he said, "I am Scottish, therefore we are already friends, my name is Rory. "It means red-haired king, I have the red hair, but I have no kingdom !" The boys bought us large romantic straw hats with multi colored ribbons, and they rented row boats. We kissed and his hands strayed on my blouse and thighs. I peeled them off gently, and teased, "You're too fast ! You must have some Italian blood !" April was glowing when we caught up with her and Eddy...

Later she wanted to know all the details about Rory and me on our row boat. I told her about the kiss. She questioned, "A full mouth kiss ?"
"Yes! A French kiss as you say in English....and he had wandering hands !"
"Where ?"
"One on my blouse and the other on my thighs..."
"Whoa! A kiss with TT !"
"TT ?"
"Tits and thighs, its first base !"

Monday morning it was strange to have to wear a uniform for going to school. Only the military schools have a uniform requirement in France. The boater was very British, I didn't mind. The blazer and the white blouse were fine. The striped tie was a pain to tie, April had to help me. The short white knee socks and the T.bar shoes were the détails qui tuent. I felt like a little girl ! "Can't we at least have grey knee high socks ?"
"Not before November first !"




Saint Angela college for young ladies was ruled with an iron hand. We had to fall in line by two according to our forms in silence in the courtyard to be inspected before entering our classrooms. A-levels, O-levels, or 4th form it made no difference, the teacher taking the first class of the day whistled and you jumped. One girl was careless and kept chatting during that morning inspection. What followed was an eye opener for this French girl ! The teacher swiftly had her bend under her arm and raised her skirt, everyone saw her white regulation knickers as her thighs were well smacked. I was gobsmacked !

Isabelle and April

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Wednesday, September 11, 2019

Poor homework, a pic story...

The cane for a poor report card !





Pics from Girls Boarding School

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Saturday, September 7, 2019

Rosy Cheeks Camping part 3/3


 We were given plenty of empty shopping bags and we climbed aboard that army truck we came with. The track was still bumpy and the poorly padded benches felt harder for those with tenderized bottoms. Anna and moi pulled on our mini skirts as the truck was parked. It was no used, the leather belts wouldn't allow lowering them.

We were told to step down, and we immediately spotted a few local boys. They were obviously waiting for the 'show'. They whistled as our friends stepped down the truck's sideboard. "Have you seen the marks on the thighs of that one !?"
"Yep, and the last two will be the morning's punished !"
We had heard, and were already blushing. I took the two steps on the sideboard and felt their gaze caressing my thighs and tickling my small gym knickers. They applauded ! I felt a hot flush and guessed I must have blushed as red as a traffic light. I would have loved to kick a few family jewels !

It was a big market and Miss Chieftain and her minions lead us. They did the shopping and the goods to be carried were passed on to us. The merchants knew them, as they are also teachers from the local college. Rosy Cheeks Camping is their side job during holidays. A few of us discreetly escaped to buy ciggies. A few more were courted by local boy-scouts...

A few days later Cecilia's was having her wet bottom tanned during the morning swimming lesson when we spotted canoes on the beach across our lake. We counted seven canoes, and they were being loaded by boy-scouts. Our Chieftain announced, "Get dressed, full uniform with skirts, and prepare to have guests for lunch..." We didn't need to be told twice ! Our campsite was a beehive of activity. We peeled the potatoes, prepared bacon and sausages and mixed a huge salad. We added another table and chairs for the faculty, and asked, "Please, could we add a table to our existing one, and sit one boy, one girl and etcetera ?" It was agreed with a warning about hanky-panky...

We had lined up on our beach when the boys pulled their canoes on the sand. The two chastised girls of the day tried pulling on their miniskirts. The boys were wearing swimming trunks and singlet T.shirts. We had an eyeful till they were showed our facilities to change into their uniforms. A few minutes later they were wearing blue shirts with matching shorts and knee high socks. Some of us had met them at the market and they paired. Our two punished girls had quite a success. Others waited for the boys to make their move. I didn't. I introduced myself to a tall boy my age with blonde hair. "I am Clarissa, whats your name ?"

His name was Harry and his left hand was caressing my thighs, and I was smiling innocently. He wasn't the only one to have a hand under the table. We weren't too surprised when their Master ordered, "Hands on the table !" Our Chieftain added, "Same for the girls, hands on the table !"

After lunch we had games of volley-ball, ping-pong, or badminton. We also took turn for discreetly disappearing into the woods. That game was suddenly interrupted. A few pairs of hanky-panksters were caught and brought back to the campsite by their ears with shirts pulled our of skirts or shorts. Our Chieftain sniffed the hairs of the girls, "And they have been smoking !"

The boys left around 4 pm after a few more chaste games, and we cleaned up. Miss Chieftain warned us, "I had said no hanky panky ! Tomorrow morning I will teach you a lesson !"

Next morning we lined up, and the last pair joining the line up weren't picked on. Those two soon found out that they shouldn't be relieved. All of us remembered the words of our Chieftain the evening before when she ordered, "Take off your knickers !" We did and we covered ourselves as best as we could. The minions gave each of us a piece of rope about 3 feet in length. "One hand at each end of that rope and raise your arms !" We were no longer able to cover ourselves, and worse was feeling out T.shirts rising up and exposing our curls and derrieres.

"Run in a circle around the campfire, and keep your arms up !" As we started running we saw that Miss Chieftain had a long switch in hand. Each time we ran in front of her she switched us. She probably meant to alternate between our thighs and bottom, but we always tried to run faster when approaching her. She never missed us, and each time we felt her very stingy switch whipping our bottoms or thighs.

Clarissa and co



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