Saturday, January 25, 2020

Eilean Beithe part 4

The next few days were peachy .... till the chemistry class. I already knew that I wouldn't be the next Marie Curie. Miss O for oxygen, as we had nicknamed our chemistry teacher, was furious. She had patiently explained her lesson before giving us a quiz. "Jennifer, 7/20 ! A grade bellow 8 in my class ! I am going to give you my special whipping..."

After having told me to remove my knickers I sat on a front row school desk facing the classroom. That was surprisingly innocent till she grabbed my legs and pulled them up. That sure was no longer innocent and I blushed as red as a peony ! She whipped my derriere and thighs with a tawse. "Oh! Ah! Ouiiiiiiich!" It wasn't a Lochgelly tawse, it was actually like a split belt. I nonetheless had decorated thighs for two days. I was well punished, but I had to admit that I deserved it for such a lousy grade...

 That afternoon it was tennis at the country club. There was no hiding the fact that I was tawsed. I overheard a young couple, "That my dear is the picture of a good tawsing... Next time you're wasting my money I'll borrow a tawse from EB and redden your bum and thighs..."
"I am very sorry Hon..."
"...and you will wear one of those mini kilts !"
"Please don't, I won't do it again..."

Saturday morning I had to redo the chemistry prep and quiz. I sighed, I could have been riding the whole day. I would have to be content with the afternoon.
Sunday I was wearing a cute dress with tiny flowers. I wanted to look as a young lady, not a naughty schoolgirl with a few remaining marks on her thighs. I was early at the country club already dreaming of Alex, the riding coach. A senior obviously had the same idea as me, and she stuck out her tongue at me. "Grgrgrgr!"

Monday morning I was very careful for the English grammar dictation and the following math class. I didn't want a sore bottom for the afternoon riding lesson. I was lucky and a few hours later I pulled my jodhpurs up, and as tight as possible ! As I ran towards the stables I was pushed into a puddle of mud. 

That senior hissed, "He's mine !" I jumped back on my feet, and a second later she was sitting on horse dung, and I moved on. She again attacked me, and scratched my right cheek as a wild cat. I punched her lights out. Miss P.E. came running. "She started it !"

"Change back into your dress and return to the castle..."
She revived Miss Senior, and made sure that her nose wasn't broken.

Later, back at the chateau Miss P.E. passed sentence. It was the cane for both of us. I thought it was unfair and protested. I was told that it was unladylike behavior to have knocked her out. 

Caning wasn't an everyday occurrence, and it was to be the first one of the year. The Principal decided that it would be Sunday morning after breakfast in the gym. We had the whole week to dread it ! A day later the senior apologized, "...and you can have him." We became friend.

I told Sally of my detention nightmares...
 It's about the canning...
You are invited to play with us !

Saturday, January 18, 2020

Eilean Beithe part 3

Having returned to our castle we were gathered in our classrooms and given name tags to hand sew in our knickers, brassieres, blouses, kilts, blazers and cardigans. A few had to be taught how to sew. That took us till dinner. We had a great meal with fish Florentine and rice. We cleared our plates, and watched a program on the big screen telly. Then we debated, "Jennifer tell us what you thought..."
I stood, "Huh... It was..."

I was immediately interrupted, "Jennifer you were told twice before that "Huh..." is unladylike language. Its the spanking bench for you !" I was grabbed by one of my bunches and pulled over two chairs set up back to back, my kilt was pulled up and my knickers were taken down to my knees, I felt well exposed and blushed accordingly...

I was severely spanked. I had never imagined such a stingy spanking. As I was told to pull up my knickers I saw a small birch. I was again asked for my opinion, and stood with both hands under my kilt. Contrary to what I had imagined about the birch my skin wasn't damaged, but my derriere and thighs were intensely burning !

Later, in bed I heard Sally through the curtains, "While being spanked you've showed everything you have, we now know that you are a real red hair !" I laughed, "We'll know soon enough if you're a real blonde !"

Sunday we could dress as we wished as long as we wore skirts at least two inches above our knees. We were invited to attend mass at the village church, then we discovered the local country club where we had a buffet lunch...

Monday morning we were awaken by a bell and the none too melodious voice of Miss P.E. "Gym kit and in front of the castle in five minutes..." After a pause she added, "I will spank the last one..." We scrambled ! We didn't have time to think of what those small shorts covered or didn't cover.  

Sally was the last one. Miss P.E. grabbed her under her arm as if she was as light as a feather. She pealed her shorts and knickers down and soundly spanked her bottom and thighs. With her feet off the ground she pedaled. A few minutes later as we jogged alongside the loch, I teased her back, "We now know what you are a real blonde !"

 After showers and having donned our uniforms we were inspected. "Juniata ! Please adjust your tie..." She did, but it didn't hold. Miss Inspector investigated. "You haven't closed the top button of you blouse !" She grabbed her pigtail, pulled her down over a chair with her kilt up and her knickers down. Her spanking echoed throughout the castle. Someone whispered, "A real brunette !"

Our first lesson followed a superb breakfast buffet. It was English grammar with the teach who had spanked me yesterday evening for my unladylike "Huh..." He told us to seat and announced, "Take a dictation, less 4 points per major mistakes and less 2 for minor ones. A grade below 12/20 means a classic spanking, under 10 and you will taste Mr Wacker. He smacked my desk with a short leather paddle. It made a loud crack, and I almost jumped out of my knickers.

Sally corrected my work and I corrected hers. Susan collected our papers. Mister English Grammar checked them. Then he stepped down from his teacher's stage and grabbed one of my bunches. I was to be the first dictation victim ! He dragged me up on the stage. I grimaced and hobbled to follow my hair. He let go when I was draped over a stool. "9/20! I am going to teach you a lesson !" He pulled my kilt up and took my knickers off before severely roasting my derriere and thighs with Mr Wacker, "Oh! Ah! Ouch!"

"Take your kilt off and correct your errors on the blackboard...."

Next he grabbed Marianne by her ear... Half the class was spanked... Then he went over each of our mistakes. He was for most of us the first teacher to take the time to do so. It was also a first to be standing skirt less with bare fiery bottoms and thighs on display while writing grammatical rules on the blackboard. We knew we would remember them forever ! The bell chimed and we were allowed to dress. That spanking with Mr Wacker showed for the whole day !

 It was math after the break. I was very lucky not to be again spanked. Some weren't so lucky. Deborah aka Debby had a second helping of Mr Wacker. Her thighs were glowing when it was time for lunch. It was again a great buffet, and we were taught how to peel an apple with a fork and a knife.

Miss P.E. announced, "A lady should know how to ride, every Monday afternoon we will teach you how to ride at the country club..." She also added, "Every afternoon you will have a sporty activity except Wednesday when you will be writing an essay.

Tuesday is swimming, Thursday is karate, Friday will be a team game, Saturday and Sunday you choose the activity you want to repeat."
She sternly added, "Saturday is also about redoing the lessons you failed. You redo the prep and take a quiz till you reach the minimum grade of 12/20..."

Then it was our riding lesson at the country club. It was a short walk on the other side of the village. I always wanted to learn how to ride. We were issued jodhpurs, boots, hats and etc. For all our activities at the country club we had a private changing room with lockers and showers.

I was afraid of feeding the bit to my horse, but I did manage to saddle her. Our riding coach was dishy and called me "a natural". We returned around 5 pm, and were back in our classrooms for supervised homework till dinner...


Too be continued...
You are invited to play with us !

Saturday, January 11, 2020

Eilean Beithe part 2

A week later at the Starbucks CafĂ© of the Glasgow airport I looked back on the past week... 
On the way home on the tube I had pulled on my mini to hide the belt marks on my thighs. Some old biddy seemed to have understood, and I blushed as a punished schoolgirl.

Over the weekend I did plenty of thinking, "They have great professors explaining every lessons... and the belt will make sure that you apply yourself... and you did deserve that belting for your failed O-levels..."

zzzzz...zzzzz... I dreamed... I was told to take my skirt off, with my knickers feeling very tight I eyed the tawse on the desk. The coach was called out. I waited and burned with curiosity. I eventually couldn't resist, I ran that tawse between my fingers... I hadn't heard the coach coming back, but I sure heard her booming voice ordering, "Take your knickers off !"

On Monday the face of the matron of the secretarial pool was priceless. I had arrived at 10 AM and told her that I would be coming back to buy the firm !

I moved my things out of the apartment, my favorite aunt had offered a room. I didn't have a boyfriend to call, I had dropped him a month ago, he was a wimp.

At the Starbucks of the Glasgow airport my cellphone blooped it was a texto telling me to find the Eilean Beithe bus in the parking lot of the Holiday Inn across the street. I pulled my suitcase on wheels and found a white midsize bus with a discreet EB logo. I also discovered two dozen girls under 25. They were smiling, I smiled back. I already felt a camaraderie...

The chauffeur had a listing and called out each of us. He carefully identified us with our picture ID attached to his paperwork. 

As we drove off we figured out the younger girls preparing to retake their O-levels, and the older ones who would be working on their A-levels and various university entrance exams. We joked, "Juniors and seniors !"

The girl next to me on the bus chirped, "You're a junior ?"
"Yep, and my name's Jenny for Jennifer, and you are ?"
"I am Sally, also a junior and signing up for two years..."
I answered, "Samo!" as if I was again 15...
We both laughed !

Two hours later we discovered a smallish remote village with very few shops, a church, and a tavern. It sure wasn't a tourist spot. After a twist of the main street we saw a superb Scottish castle on a small island. It was linked to the main land by a narrow causeway which was closed by a chain bearing a sign reading "Private !"

We were gathered in the largest room of the chateau which was also the dinning hall with wood paneling and long old wooden tables. We immediately noticed a display with a cane, a tawse and a small birch... Someone whispered, "Eilean Beithe means birch island..."

"Welcome to Eilean Beithe young ladies, "I am the Principal, my name is Mr McTavish". He introduced our professors and the staff before taking us on a tour, "...over there you have the gym with its equipment." 

We were next showed two old fashion classrooms, " for juniors preparing O-levels and one for seniors preparing A-levels and university entrance exams." We giggled, we had already figured the juniors and seniors. Each classroom had the same disciplinary display...

Then it was the dorms, "Juniors are 4 to a dorm, seniors are 2 to a room. You may pull the light proof curtains between your beds for privacy. Your names are on the doors. You are to now change into your uniforms, and you will be inspected in the gym in fifteen minutes..."

Sally showed her uniform skirt at arms' length. It was a blue tartan mini kilt, "Whoa! Its short !" Amanda chimed back, "White knee high socks !" Juniata chimed on, "White blouse with a tie, and a navy blazer..." I added, "White knickers ! I feel at least 10 years younger..."

None of us were late for the uniform inspection. The seniors wore red mini kilts. A very fit lady introduced herself as our P.E. Mistress, "You may wear your cardigans instead of your blazers when inside, but first thing first all those with long hair are to braid them or tie them into pigtails or bunches..." As she inspected each of us she gave out blue scrunchies for juniors and red ones for seniors. We brightly blushed when she lifted our kilts to make sure we were wearing the white uniform knickers. 

"Get your vaccination cards, we are going to have you medically inspected by the village doctor..." Two minutes later she ordered, "Line up by two, juniors first, seniors behind, and follow me..." She also very sternly added, "No funny business ! I won't hesitate to spank any of you in the middle of main street !" That sure got our full attention. We marched down the causeway, pulled our kilts down as we stepped over the chain. I was very conscious of the amount of leg I was showing…

The villagers didn't rush out to watch us, but the few male patrons of the tavern did scrutinized our parade. At the medical office a nurse took us four at a time and ordered, "Strip! Don't make me repeat myself or I'll call your mistress..." 

We obeyed ! She measured and weighted us, and wrote a card for each of us. Then, with carrying that card and our clothes we were showed into the doctor's office. He was male, and we were naked ! 

While three of us sat on cold metal chairs he took the blood pressure of the fourth one, and thoroughly examined her.


To be continued
You are invited to play with us !

Saturday, January 4, 2020

Eilean Beithe Academy part 1

It was a small add in the miscellaneous classifieds of a psychology magazine I picked up at the hairdresser. It read : "You are a young lady struggling with having to retake your O-levels or you are preparing your A-levels or about to take the entrance exam of a prestigious university. Eilean Beithe Academy will help you with time proven methods..."
Stuck in a secretarial job. I couldn't hope for more than being selected as a private assistant. I had to retake my O-levels and graduate from a good university. A month ago I inherited enough money to stop working for a few years or buy a miniature London apartment. I wrote down the telephone number for Eilean Beithe.

A week later I was late for work and the tube wasn't overcrowded. It was the time for those who didn't have to punch a clock. Gentlemen politely stood for ladies. One could actually ear the radio in the background. Unfortunately I will have to apologize to the secretarial pool matron for my lateness...

She was exceptionally mean, and it was the last straw breaking the back of this camel. I remembered the telephone number for the Eilean Beithe Academy. If they could guarantee my O-levels as I can't waste my small capital. I need at least my O-levels to be out of the secretarial pool... I called during my mid morning break. A very professional assistant gave me an exceptional Saturday morning appointment with the Registrar.

That Saturday morning, dressed with stay up woolly tights and a navy miniskirt with matching jacket, I stood in front of a small Victorian house in a lovely neighborhood. I saw how it was shared by accountants and lawyers. I rang the bell for the Eilean Beithe Academy. A male voice came through the intercom, "Good morning, second floor, the door on the right..."

The door was ajar and from inside I heard the same voice, "Don't be shy, come in..." I walked through a deserted front office which wasn't surprising on a Saturday. I noticed the modern furniture and a tall gentleman stood by the door of a large office. "Miss Jennifer Davenport I presume..."
"Yes Sir..."
"Please come in and take a seat..." I stopped in my tracks as I discovered a huge picture of a  Scottish castle on a small peninsula...
"The Eilean Beithe castle..."

"Its superb !"

I was again invited to sit in front of large glass table with aluminium trestles. I realized how he could see my legs and pulled on my mini... "Please tell us how we could help you..."

"I would like to retake my O-levels and graduate from a good university..."
"One year to prepare your O-levels, and another year to prepare the A-levels as well as the entrance exam to the university of your choice..."
 I nodded.
"During your years at that university we also offer Easter and summer classes to make sure you graduate with honors..."
"I have a small capital and I don't want to waste it..."
"If you fail your O-levels we will refund you..."
"Don't say "Huh!" It is very unladylike !"
"Sorry Sir..."

"Please have a look at the brochure..."
"The self consciousness of having to wear a school uniform with a short kilt exposing plenty of bare thighs to be smacked if slacking...
Character building discipline with plenty of physical education....
Very carefully selected professors and coaches ....
Classes limited to a dozen pupils...
Individual monitoring to make sure that lessons were well understood...
Supervised homework by a dedicated professor...
"Very interesting !"
"Very interesting, Sir !"
"Yes, sorry Sir. It is very interesting, Sir !"

"Will you be able to afford our fees ? Which includes full board, kit and etc..."
"Yes Sir..."
"You have to understand that you will be paying in advance for each years. Again we will refund you if you fail to graduate... We never had to refund any of our girls..."
"When you failed your O-levels did your father or mother punished you and how ?"
I blushed as I answered, "Father belted me, Sir..."

"Excellent ! Please sign the preliminary consent form and write : If warranted I agree to be subjected to corporal punishment...."
I again blushed, and wrote the line...
"Stand, take off your jacket, skirt and knickers..."
"What have I told you about unladylike speech !"
"Sorry Sir, yes Sir..."

I had just now signed the corporal punishment consent form. I can't back out ! If I back out it will be the end of Eilean Beithe. I'll never be able to graduate without help from EB. I'll be a secretary forever. I blushed to my ears when I took off my knickers and demurely kept my hands in front of my curls.

 While taking off his belt he ordered, "Hands on your head."

He whipped my bottom and thighs, front and back... I danced as I tried to avoid that fiery belt, but I kept my hands on my head... "OUCH!"

"Plus four for unladylike language..."
"How does that compare with your father's belting ?"
 I was still dancing on the spot as I answered, "It doesn't compare Sir, it was far more severe..."
"Mind you, we also have a tawse and a cane... but our punishments are meant to be more stingy than bruising..."
I nodded, that was somehow reassuring... I was desperate for a rub, but I had to keep my hands on my head.
"If need be we want to be able to repeat the punishment as soon as required..."
I barely avoided another one of my 'Huh!'. I was saved by my throbbing bottom and thighs...

"You will take the brochure home... You will sleep on it for a week... If you decide to be an Eilean Beithe girl you will be at Glasgow's airport next Saturday at noon..."


To be continued...

You are invited to play with us !