Saturday, November 30, 2019

Paris roommates part 2

Then it was Monday and Madame had prepared scrambled eggs and fried bacon. Phew! I won't be missing my 'real breakfast', the Scottish breakfast. Leslie and Margit as American and German approved. Southern France Cécile told of her grandmother's breakfasts on the farm.
Madame reminded us of the gym in the basement and offered to supervise proper exercises, "...and I am still a licensed tennis coach, if some of you want to learn or practice the game."
I enthused, "Ma'am, I am a junior player and would love to improve !" To be coached by an international star was an incredible opportunity .... my roommates must have similarly reasoned as they joined the club.
She also repeated what she told me on my arrival, "I view us as a turn of the century boardinghouse for young ladies, with advantages and penalties..." We had also discovered that Margit's parents had asked her to monitor her grades. She added, "Your parents were informed... they may or may not take the offer... but you may want to volunteer... mind you, I am very severe !" We didn't dare asking if she meant spanking...
Later, I walked by the stunning glass pyramid to discover a tall portal in the Aisle du Flore of the Louvre Palace. It was opening on the quiet private garden of the Ecole du Louvre. It was a surprising mix of twenty feet ceilings, theater like class rooms with multiple video screens, and a huge library with the latest computers. We were given a tour of the museum basement with thousand of treasures.
For the next few days we got to know each other better. Of course we talked about boys, and started exchanging clothes....
We also watched the big screen telly in the living room with Madame. On Friday while watching a National Geographic documentary Madame suddenly frowned, "Flora I told you before to be careful not to show your knickers !" I remembered and I was very embarrassed when she added, "Next time I have to remind you its a bare bottom spanking in front of all those present..."
The next time had arrived sooner than later and she swiftly caught my wrist and pulled me over her knees while I hastily apologized, "I am sorry Ma'am !" She flipped my skirt up and took my knickers down. I protested, "Please don't, please..." It was too late. I was exposing my bare bottom to my new friends, and I was going to be spanked as a naughty girl.
She vigorously spanked my derriere. She was no tennis champ for nothing ! I scissored my legs. She continued with the top of my thighs and I pedaled. It was a long and severe spanking. Mum would have approved. She always encouraged Pop to be more severe. "Give her a glowing bottom ! She isn't made of sugar."
She eventually stopped and my nates were throbbing. I saw her grabbing a notepad from a nearby coffee table. She used my back as a lap desk, once done writing she tore off the sheet, and sternly ordered, "Stand up, no rubbing, keep your skirt up and your knickers down. She gave me the note she had written. I read, "A proper young lady doesn't show her knickers."
"Hold it with your nose on the wall over there and keep your skirt up. If you drop it I'll spank you again !" For the next ten minutes I read it over and over again, and silently sighed. I was standing in the corner with my skirt up and my knickers at half mast exposing my crimson bum to everyone.
It was confirmed, we had guessed it right when we chatted that first night, she meant spanking when she had said, "...mind you, I am very severe !"
Next day was Saturday, my derriere had recovered its natural rosy condition. I was on market duty with Madame and Ginette. The market or 'marché' in French was about dozens of stalls under a turn of the century metal and glass canopy. We pulled our two wheels shopping trolleys and Madame lead us while following the shopping list she had prepared with Ginette and I. The stalls owners knew her and made offers. She bought the best produces. She was genuinely concerned with our health. She had new daughters.
She stopped by a hardware stand with various cleaning supplies and households utensils. There was a cluster of martinets and she felt the leather thongs. She wasn't satisfied and called the matronly stall owner, "Would you have more severe martinets for big girls .... my own girls burned the old family martinet when they left home..."
The matron eyed me as if to gauged the big girl. I blushed ! She soon found a more severe martinet, "There you are Madam. I have the same for my 20 year old daughter, and it has been very effective !" She again eyed me while adding. "She will remember it !" I blushed as red as the tomatoes of the next stall, where the owner had a wide smile.
Back home Madame told me to hang the martinet behind the kitchen door. Leslie asked, "What is that thing ? It doesn't look too cool !" Margit mentioned its German name, "We call it a klopfpeitsche ." Cécile added, "Its a martinet, and that one is for big girls, guarantied to leave welts for at least three days and probably four if applied to your thighs..."
Leslie mentioned, "A Texan school paddle will bruise your ass for over a week..." Madame overheard, "Watch your language young lady, first and last warning !"
Flora and co
To be continued

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Wednesday, November 27, 2019

Silent movie

Drawings from Zerte from

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Saturday, November 23, 2019

Paris roommates part 1

 After my O and A-levels I joined the famous Ecole du Louvre in Paris to study art history, and archaeology. Although my parents have relocated to London we have always remained Scots, and as a true Scottish lass I always had a soft spot for France. I have also spent many summers in France with various exchanged programs, and I am just about bilingual.

The Ecole du Louvre being within the Musée du Louvre means having to find accommodation in central Paris, the priciest neighborhood in one of the priciest cities. Although my parents are well off, and paying for my expenses, I had a hard time finding a suitable place. I was eventually lucky. The ad on the Internet read, "Mature widow with a house too big for her offering rooms and board to young female students..." The address on the rue Saint-Honoré was a stone throw from the museum !

I completed the form, paid a deposit, kissed Mom and Pop and hopped on the Eurostar. Four hours later a taxi dropped me and my backpack plus a huge suitcase in front of a massive double wooden door with a smaller one within the right side panel. I pushed it and discovered a passage opening into a small courtyard with a superb silver like Citroen DS. A middle aged lady appeared from the ground floor apartment, "Bonjour, vous êtes l'étudiante anglaise ?" I smiled, and didn't mention that I am Scottish !

"I am Ginette, the cook and the maid, Madame is waiting for you..." A superb rug covered staircase took me to the first floor and a grand living and dining room overlooking the street. It was elegantly furnished with a mix of classic antiques and 1950-60 furniture.

Madame Lacoste warmly welcomed me, "Pleased to meet you Ma'am, I am Flora McLeod.

I was impressed by this woman in her early 60's, "Welcome young lady, let me show you your room. We took the staircase one floor up, and I discovered four rooms with attached bathrooms and old fashioned bathtubs, as well as a common room with a large screen television. The room I had chosen on the Internet presentation was overlooking the street and was more spacious than I had imagined. It was well decorated and I had a desk with a printer and a good size bed. "Dinner is at 7:30 PM, and we don't wear trousers in this house, please dress accordingly..." She said that with the tone of someone who doesn't repeat herself...

I replaced my jeans with an above the knee kilt in my tartan. She appreciated, "Your clan's tartan ?"
"Yes Ma'am !".

I noticed a number of tennis trophies. She explained that she was an international player, "I have also taught my daughtes and a number of girls who are now top seeded..." She had said "taught" and "top seeded" as if to say they had better do well...

We had dinner and she invited me for a longer visit of the house, and I noticed the big kitchen on the ground floor and a smaller one on the first floor, "For preparing lighter meals, breakfast, mid-afternoon tea..." Madame's bedroom was also on the first floor...

She laid down a few rules, "No boys up in your room... breakfast at 7 AM on weekdays and 8 on weekends... back home by 10 PM on weekdays and 11 on weekends... lights out an hour later. You will be taking turns with your roommates to cook on weekends so has to give Ginette her weekends... you will also be taking turns to help her and me shop at the local market on Saturday mornings... I will prepare breakfasts during the weekdays."

"Washers and dryers are in the basement." She paused before adding, "I view us as a turn of the century boardinghouse for young ladies, with advantages and penalties..." Both my eyebrows danced for that word of "penalties" !

Next day the roomies arrived, They were my age and university students. The first one was Cécile from the south of France. She was followed by Margit from Germany and Leslie from the USA. They were all wearing jeans. Madame was wearing an expensive Chanel skirt and silk blouse. I smiled as she promptly educated them, "In this house young ladies don't dress as truckers, they wear a dress or a skirt, please change..." The tone was quite clear, she didn't have to mention now or the alternative of leaving. Five minutes later they were wearing jeans miniskirts as I was. Madame smiled and conducted the tour.

"Flora do tag along there's more for you to learn..." On a cupboard of the smaller first floor kitchen there was a weekly planner on a magnetic board with our names and duties. I was on market duty with Madame and Ginette on Saturday morning... Madame again chimed, "Ginette will give you name tags to sew onto all your clothing... It will be quite helpful for the weekly laundry team of Friday afternoon... You may also have personal laundry at your leisure..."

Later, as we were back in the huge living and dining room she mentioned, "Margit's parents have asked me to monitor her monthly report cards..." Margit blushed to her ears. Madame added, "Your parents were informed... they may or may not take the offer... but you may want to volunteer... mind you, I am very severe !" That last "detail" had Margit glowing !

Flora and co

To be continued
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Wednesday, November 20, 2019

A French student on a summer job

A French lesson for all of you dear friends
Drawings from Zerte from

Saturday, November 16, 2019

A Stingy Dare

I was back from the Saturday morning rush at the supermarket. After having parked my big Mini and unloaded my groceries, I stopped by the mailboxes to pick up the mail. Among the advertising junk I had a letter from the Traffic Offenses Division. I was surprised and anxiously waited till being home to open it.

I pulled out a letter and a poorly printed picture. The quality of that picture was good enough to show me at the wheel of my 4x4 Mini. It also showed that I was using a cellphone. The front registration plate was quite clear. I slowly read the letter,
"Miss Jessica Wyatt,
We have evidence that you have violated the speed limit. Exceeding it by more than 10 kmh, 20 kmh, 30 kmh, 40 kmh...
The 20 kmh box was checked.
We have also noticed that you were using a cellphone while driving.
There was a list of penalties and the box for less 3 points for the speeding was checked. The one for less 2 points for the cellphone usage was also ticked.
Two more boxes were checked, 300 £ for speeding and 200 £ for the cellphone.
"If you do not pay within 15 days, these fines will be increased by 10%.
You may reclaim half your lost points with attending the Road Safety School and a payment of 200 £ per point, otherwise your points will be re-credited after 3 years.
If you can't afford the payment of these fines you should visit your local Punishment Officer.

The little wheels between my ears were speeding as I was storing my groceries into the fridge. I remembered that day, I was late and I did push the pedal to the metal. I had to admit it, I was a naughty girl.

I called Marjorie, my best friend, and confessed the whole story. She laughed ! I wasn't too happy, and told her so, "Yoh! Hold your horses! I just happened to have received a similar letter for the same traffic violations...."
"Ah! Oh! And you are going to pay ?"
"I actually can't afford... I would have to ask my father... He will probably say that a spanking would do me a world of good... and you ?"
"I can ask Jamie, but he already paid the insurance of my mini..."
Marjorie again laughed, "I dare you to take a chance with the punishment officer !"
"You realize that it might more than a spanking ?!"
"We might be given community work..."
"I am already working over time..."
"Seems like we don't have much of a choice unless we beg for money... "
"OK, you're on !"

We visited the local Punishment Office. Beside its less than re-assuring name and the smell of fresh paint it looked as any government offices. The receptionist wasn't paid for smiling. We gave the Traffic Offenses Division letters and were given an appointment, and told to sign a form. We read enough to understand that it was about agreeing to accept the decision of the Punishment Officer. We were also given copies and carefully read them at a local pub. 

The Punishment Officer may decide that you should be subjected to corporal punishment. You are to wear a pleated miniskirt for your appointment...
"Oh! We might be spanked as naughty schoolgirls..."
"It might be more than a spanking..."
"So you've already said !"

Two days later, we were early for our appointments. We anxiously waited on a hard wooden bench outside the few offices. A few years ago I had sat on such a bench in front of a door with a gold plate reading Principal. The receptionist had given us a ticket with a number and we kept our eyes on the counters atop the doors of those offices. No one stepped out from them, "There must be another way out..."

Marjorie saw her number and she entered one of the offices. A minutes later my number came up. I almost wet my knickers ! I knocked on the next door and entered. A middle aged man wearing a dark suit was sitting behind a large desk. He didn't smile. In fact he looked quite stern There was no seats for visitors. I stood in front of the desk...

"Good morning Sir,"
"Miss Jessica Wyatt..."
I nodded...
"Speeding over 20 kmh and using a cellphone while driving, less 5 points on your license and a fine of 500 £..."
"I am very sorry Sir..."
"You will attend the Road Safety School..."
I nodded and added, "I can't afford the fine nor to pay for reclaiming my points..."
"I may assign community work..."
"I am already working over time..."
"Lets add up .... 500 £ for the two fines and 3 points to be reclaimed out of 5 for 600 £, the grand total is 1100 £."
"Since it is your first offence you are given a discount ... 900 £..."
I was about to repeat that I can't afford to pay.
"You are going to be corporeally punished..."
I blanched...
"9 strokes of the tawse on your bare bottom and thighs."
For a few seconds I was frozen.

"You can't expect an over the knee spanking for such offences ?!"
"Take your skirt and knickers off.  
 Bend over the desk and grab the other end..."
I felt so exposed and blushed to my ears. I forbid myself to imagine what I was showing. There was a swoosh and my bottom was whacked. "Oh!" It sure wasn't Daddy's belt !
6 across my derriere and 2 for my thighs. I danced when told to stand. I wanted to rub my smarting bum and thighs, but my hands stopped in mid flight when told, "No rubbing !"
I was ordered to put my skirt back on and to sit on the desk. For my ninth stroke the front of my thighs was smacked right under the hemline of my skirt. It flew up with the swoosh of the tawse and revealed my curls. I blushed, and hastily pulled it down.

"You may stand, and pull your knickers back on. No rubbing !"

I very slowly pulled my knickers up over my blazing thighs and derriere. I tried to pull my mini skirt down over the smarting tawse welts, but it was pointless.

"You will be wearing pleated mini skirts revealing the marks of the tawse till next week when we will review your grades from the Road Safety School..."

I stepped out of the Punishment Office and blushed as red as a peony as I realized how my punished thighs were quite visible. I couldn't help it and rubbed and rubbed some more and noticed Marjorie doing the same. I saw her pink knickers and understood that I my rubbing must have also showed my knickers to everyone around...

"We did it !"
"You mean to say that we were tawsed as naughty girls !"
On the way back home with Marjorie I very carefully respected the speed limit. We realized how we had given very little attention to punished girls. One was riding pillion on a motorbike with a hand around the waist of her girlfriend and the other one doing a poor job of keeping her flying mini skirt down. We weren't alone. 

I had a long soak with Epsom salts, and was quite disappointed to see that my bottom and thighs were still crimson.

We had the afternoon off and we visited the local Road Safety School for young ladies. We were lucky, there was two last minute cancellations.
"Good afternoon young lady, please introduce yourself, mention your offence and the punishment received..."
"Miss Jessica Wyatt, I exceeded the speed limit by 20 kmh and was I using my cellphone while driving. I was given 9 strokes of the tawse..." I was still blushing as I sat.
"I haven't told you to sit, and your presentation should have started with 'Yes Sir!' Another mishap and I will spank your bare bottom in front of the whole class, and you will be standing in the corner with your skirt up and your knickers down to expose your very bare and very red derriere !"
With a deep blush I hurriedly stood up to add, "Yes Sir, I am sorry Sir."

The lesson lasted two hours, and it was concluded with a multiple choice questionnaire. I scored a C. One girl scored a D which was considered as an F. She got a resounding bare bottom and thighs spanking in front of the whole classroom. "Phew!"

The next day was Friday and I had to be back at work. Although I wouldn't be the first girl of the office to have visited the Punishment Officer I knew that everyone would be curious. I entered the secretariat with quite a blush. They teasingly applauded when they saw my decorated thighs revealed by the imposed mini skirt and chanted, "Naughty girl ! Naughty girl ! How many and with what ?"
"9 with the tawse..." 
Phew! I was relieved, my colleagues hadn't embarrassed me. I sat at my desk and pulled on my mini skirt. It could actually be called a punishment skirt...

Then it was Saturday and the weekend. I wasn't too happy, a weekend with a mini skirt revealing that I had visited a Punishment Officer ! I also have to attend the gym, Jamie will be waiting. I started with another bath with Epsom salts and a massage with Arnica. It was again quite disappointing.

I was late at the gym and Jamie was fuming, but he mellowed when he saw my reddened thighs. "You should have told me that you couldn't pay the fines !"
"You have already paid for my Mini's insurance... and Marjorie had dared me..."

"Marjorie had dared you ?!"
"Yes, she had the same traffic violations, and couldn't pay, and dared me to visit the Punishment Officer..."
I gave him a quick kiss and whispered, "You don't want to be seen with a naughty girl ?!"
"Hahahaha! I love girls with a red bottom ! Change into your game skirt !"

"Grgrgrgr ! Its so short !"
Jamie who is also the number one coach added, "Rope climbing, hurry up !"
I hated rope climbing with the scratchy rope between my thighs. Not to mention that it will be pulling up my gym knickers. 
A few minutes later Jamie had an eyeful. "You're a beast !"

He slapped my derriere and thighs and added with his booming voice, "Careful young lady, the coach may spank your bare bottom in front of everyone !"
I blushed as red as my bum and hurried up the rope to be out of his reach...

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Wednesday, November 13, 2019

A spanking and the cane

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Tuesday, November 12, 2019

A spanking confessional

Denise and Sophie are 20 and from Paris. They stepped off the Eurostar at Waterloo Station early Saturday morning. In 1997 the Eurostar didn't go further. It isn't their first visit to the UK, they have been on a few teenage exchange programs to improve their English. However it is their first unsupervised one. They are travelling light with overnight backpacks, and they have dressed with jeans miniskirts to conquer Albion's capital ! 
From Waterloo they took the Tube to their hotel in Soho, and were surprised by the number of girls wearing miniskirts. I giggled, "London invented the mini !" From the Piccadilly Circus Station they entered the heart of Soho, as they walked on Old Compton street. They weren't too surprised when they discovered strange fashion shops or sex shops protected by black curtains. It is the neighborhood they weren't allowed to visit as teenagers !

Their hotel isn't one of those London palaces, but it isn't seedy and adeptly named Soho Hostel. It is an old Victorian mansion transformed into an hotel with a small garden in the back, and big rooms with attached bathrooms and claw-foot bathtubs. The receptionist was very nice and gave them extra towels. After having left their backpacks at the hotel they had a spicy lunch snack of rice curry with meat balls at a street side stall, Sophie philosophized, "In France its couscous, and in the UK its curry..."

Then they explored one of those strange fashion shops, and were quite surprised with what they discovered. The window was actually quite tame, once inside it was another story. First there was the latex, rubber and vinyl mini dresses, and as they further entered the boutique there was more surprises with bottomless mini shorts. A salesgirl with a huge smile gently approached them, and whispered, "For spanking naughty girls..." They blushed the more as they continued their journey to discover sextoys they had never imagined, and an array of paddle and canes...

They crossed the street and entered another shop with a window filled with various uniforms. Again what's behind the window was surprising. First there were maid outfits, adult school uniforms for 'boys' and 'girls', police uniforms for males and females, and further inside various underwear and more paddles, straps, and canes...

They froze in front of short red tartan kilts. They reminded them of their last summer camp in the Lake District. Louise one of the English girls wearing a similar skirt was caned. They were quite jealous of that brazen girl who became the leader of the gang after her caning. As French girls they weren't spanked, therefore they had to be content to be mere followers. They now feel they would have had more fun if they were treated as their British chums.

As I felt the wholly fabric of those kilt I mused, "I am still wondering how it would have felt to be caned as Louise..."

Sophie decided that we should buy those kilts. I laughed, "We will sorta feel like Louise !" We  immediately changed into them. "Whoa! They are very short and unlike our A-line denim minis they might fly because of the pleating..." I picked up a pair of white schoolgirl knickers, and we returned to the fitting rooms to change into them...

Still day dreaming about Louise and the cane we entered the Janus bookshop. We weren't too interested in the glossy magazines, nor the pricey old French novels with the ink drawings. The back room with the videos was ignored. We stopped for a few seconds by the display of canes and discreetly fingered one. Sophie whispered as she teased me, "Imagine it applied to your bare butt..." I spotted a small pile of flyers,

"Spanking Confessional

Have you been a naughty girl ?

Will you have the courage to own up ?"

There was an address with the same postal code as the shops we had visited. We shyly took two of those flyers. Once outside we sat at the terrace of a pub and ordered tall beers. We were both curious of that Spanking Confessional, but we were shy to mention it to the other one. 

At the next table two girls our age were laughing and repeatedly pulling on their kilts in vain attempts to cover the wide red marks decorating the front of their thighs. They had obviously received a belting. It wasn't surprising in 1997...

We had both noticed those two punished girls, and it was the trigger. We winked in unison, and Sophie challenged, "If you're game I am as well !" I answered with high five, and took the flyer out of my bag....

We opened our tourist guide and looked for the address. It was closer than we thought. Two minutes later we were in front of a small Victorian row house. "I have butterflies in my tummy !"  Sophie took the lead and buzzed the intercom. A male voice answered, "Please come in, the door is open, and wait in the lounge on your right..."

The decor was very Victorian with wood paneling, antic furniture, Indian rugs, and an empty fire place. A small wicker basket was set in the middle of the coffee table with a card reading, "For donations - No less than £20 each !" While they waited they saw a girl about their age on her way out. She was rubbing her short pleated skirt over her derriere. As she did so the shortish skirt rode up and showed her reddened thighs...

A tall gentleman in his fifties followed and admonished her, "Next time I won't be so lenient !" He was wearing an opened black academic gown over a grey tweed suit. We stood up when he turned towards us and questioned with a severe voice, "What is it this time ?" For a second we were taken aback, but we soon understood his act and Sophie caught up. "The mice in the kitchen... It was us..." I remembered of that prank at the summer camp. The English girls knowing that we wouldn't be spanked had convinced us to do the deed...

"I am the new Headmaster and the cook told me of that silliness." He must have picked up Sophie's accent as he added, "French girls are no longer exempt from punishment !" He pulled Sophie by the ear till she had no choice but to come across his knees. Her miniskirt swiftly went up and her knickers went down as swiftly, she barely had time to say, "Oh!" He spanked her fast and hard. He also smacked her thighs. She pedaled and scissored her legs and showed everything she has. Then he stood her up, "Keep your skirt up and watch your friend get her well deserved spanking !" She wanted to at least cover her front. "Keep that skirt up !" She blushed and kept it above her tuft.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me over his knees. He yanked my mini kilt up and my knickers came down. I hastily closed my legs. He spanked my bottom and thighs till I pedaled as much as Denise ! "Go stand next to your accomplice, and keep your skirt up !"

It wasn't my first spanking, but I had never received such a severe one. We gathered that it was only an appetizer when we saw him uncoiling a tawse. "Next its a well deserved Scottish tawsing  for the two of you. Bend down to grab those stools and keep your skirts up." He smacked our derrieres and thighs alternating for one to the other. We danced in vain attempts to avoid that fiery tawse. "Oh! Ah! Ouch!"

We had received a few beltings at home, but they weren't as severe as that tawsing. Our bottoms and thighs were burning but we were still curious of the famous English school cane. We almost smiled when Mister Headmaster said, "You also deserve to be caned !" He remained silent for a few seconds before adding, "You will know how English girls are punished !" He was obviously waiting for our consent. We looked at each other, and we nodded. We were now going to be truly baptized as British school girls. 

He took a school cane out of the umbrella stand. We watched with wide eyes as he flexed it, and swished it through the air. The hissing sound had us shuddering. We both had second thoughts, but none of us wanted to be the one chickening out. We also remembered Louise, she hadn't had a chance to escape it...

"Bend down over each arms of the settee... Six of the best... Strokes will be repeated if you have your hands on the way..." We again heard that cane hissing. I shuddered, and my bottom felt so bare...

Sophie squealed. The next one was for me. "Ah! Ouch!" My derriere felt as if it was horizontally sliced. After the fourth searing stroke my hands flew to rub my throbbing nates. I felt a very sharp sting across my thighs. I got another fiery stroke across my bottom, and heard the count of, "Four!" Having rubbed had cost me an additional stroke and a fiery stripe across my thighs. "Ouch!"

I had received seven strokes across my bottom and it was burning, and my thighs were throbbing from the tawse and that extra cane stroke, "Keep your skirts up and stand in the corner..." I rubbed on the way to the corner. He grabbed my wrist, had me twirling on the spot and caned the front of my thighs right under the hemline of my kilt, "No rubbing !"

Ten minutes later we are out on the street rubbing our bottoms and thighs as discreetly as possible, but we soon realized that our mini kilts showed everyone that we were well punished. We blushed as red as street lights, and ran back to the pub.

The two girls with belted thighs were still there. They of course immediately noticed that we were punished. They laughed and called the waiter, "Two tall beers with shots, on us !" They also saw how we were fidgeting in our seats and asked, "Strap or cane ?"

"La fessée, la tawse et la cane ! Oops ! Sorry, I meant spanked, tawsed and caned..." Having said that I felt myself blushing to my ears as a punished schoolgirl...

"French ?"

We nodded.

"Stings !?"

"Oh la la! my bottom and thighs feel scorched !"

Sophie added, "We wanted to know whats its like to be punished as British schoolgirls... We were caned and that was so... so severe !"

I giggled, "We don't have the been there t.shirts, but we have the kilts and the welts on our thighs and bums !" 

I again painfully sqirmed in my chair. "Sophie's right, the cane was something else... It was infernal !"

Sophie added, "My butt and thighs are still fiercely burning !"

I was curious, "What about you ?"

"We were given a punishment slip..."
"We were lucky, the cane wasn't requested..."

Denise and Sophie

PS : You are invited to play with us !

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Complete that form and send it to

Till we open our new website you may visit the Oaks and Pines Entry Hall to learn more about our game

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Monday, November 11, 2019

November 11th

We pray for them...

We salute them with our right hand on our heart...

We listen to the bugle... we only have tears to offer...

Tonight we will look up for their stars...

Some have a special star... and we hug them...

Some will embrace all the stars... and we hug each other...

We love you all...

We thank you.!

Wednesday, November 6, 2019

In the corner !

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Saturday, November 2, 2019

Brenda part 2/2

Lindy opened with a warm smile. Steve welcomed me. "Dear Brenda, we have been waiting for you
I offered a sheepish, "Good afternoon Sir, Ma'am..."
"Brenda please have a seat..." He had showed me the leather settee. I smoothed my skirt and sat, the leather felt cold on my thighs. They both sat in front of me in large chairs on the other side of the coffee table. I felt as a naughty school girl in front of her parents. Lindy served tea and after a sip Steve asked, "You have something for us Brenda..." I knew he meant my report card. I pulled it out of my skirt's pocket and tried to smooth it before handing handed it to him. "There you are Sir..."
Steve read it out loud, "Brenda is a clever girl who has been lazy... If she pulls her socks up before the fall, she should be able to save her year..." He added, "We are going to make sure of that with a severe spanking and a belting..." I blushed redder with every word. He sat on a kitchen chair brought by Lindy, and tapped his thighs, "Come here !"
His authoritarian voice had me feeling as a naughty schoolgirl about to be punished, and the butterflies in my tummy were having a ball. I took two hesitant steps, he grabbed my hand and pulled me over his knees. I blushed deep red as I felt my skirt being pulled up. I couldn't tell if I blushed any redder, but I felt my hear tingling when he pulled my knickers down. He held both my wrists with his left hand in my back and pushed a knee between my legs, "Oh!" I felt so exposed and realized that my very very bare derriere was facing Lindy.
The first smack took my breath away. He was much stronger than Pops ! His hand didn't feel like a wooden beater. He was obviously keeping it more supple for stingier spanks. After ten of those vigorous and stingy smacks my bottom was ablaze as after twenty from Pops. I rolled my hips, he tightened his grip on my wrists, pushed his knee further between my legs and smacked my thighs, I stumped my feet.
"Oh! Ah!"
The spanking methodically continued. He must have seen the color of my nates, he must have heard my groans, he for sure knew that my derriere was fiercely burning. He couldn't possibly increase the fire consuming my bottom, he nonetheless continued the spanking. It was obviously about making me feel it for as long as he could.
"Oh! Ouch!"
Suddenly it was over, the loud smacks no longer echoed through the room, and my bum was fiercely throbbing. I had never imagined that a spanking could be so severe. He helped me up and picked up my knickers before ordering, "No rubbing ! Take off your skirt !" I was tamed and tanned, I obeyed and stood naked from my navel to my ankle socks. I watched with saucer like eyes as he pulled out his alligator belt from his pants and doubled it. "Bend over the chair and grabbed the seat !"
The belt lashed my derriere and the back of my thighs, I felt belt wide streaks of fire. I frenetically danced. "I promise to improve my grades ! I'll be in bed by 10 pm. I'll have 8 hours of sleep every night ! Oh! Ah" I'll never again party till the wee hours ! I am very sorry to have been a naughty girl ! Oh! Ouch! I'll be a good girl ! A very good girl ! I promise !"
"Oh! Ah! Ouch!"
"Stand with your hands on your head and turn around !" I did and I got four belt smacks to the front of my thighs. I again danced, I almost rubbed. "No rubbing ! Keep you hands on your head and listen carefully. You will call your parents and explain how you were disciplined, and ask them to send a tawse and a cane. If you don't improve your grades within a month it will be the tawse. Then you will be given another month. I you persist with your lazy ways, you will caned. From now you will always wear above the knees pleated skirts or kilts.
"Oh! but... but it will be the windy season, and when I ride my bike to school my skirt might fly..."
"Then everyone will see that you were punished !"
I soberly nodded, "Yes Sir..."
With the sight of the purple welts decorating my thighs I felt encouraged to reread all my latest preps. I realized how much I had slacked. I had no self pity, I again admitted that I did deserve to be punished. I was too shy to call Pops and Mum, I wrote, ".... I had overheard the sound of spanking coming from my neighbors' opened window... Feeling guilty of my poor grades I dropped my report card into their mailbox. It was like throwing a bottle in the sea. I was invited for tea and punished. I was also told to ask you to send a tawse and a cane..."
Monday morning at law school I had a few friends teasing me for my schoolgirl like pleated skirt, "You look so very cute, ready to be spanked for poor grades !" I blushed, and I was very careful to keep my skirt down !
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