I didn't sleep too well that Friday night. The pink slips we got for fighting those boys and girls haunted me.
The memory of my first spanking, at the hand of Aunty Davina, played again on the blank screen of my sleepless night.
The shame of being pulled over her knees, to have my skirt raised, and my knickers pulled down, feeling the nakedness of my derriere. Knowing that Margaret was told to remain in the room to watch my punishment.
The helplessness of being held down on her knees, with one arm folded behind my back. The endless flurry of fiery smacks igniting my bottom, and causing me to pedal my legs. Knowing that I was showing everything I have to Margaret.
Aunty Davina helped me up. I made the silly mistake of rubbing my fiery bottom without permission. She immediately pulled me back over her knees. She lectured me, and punctuated every word with that horrid hairbrush, "You are not to rub till allowed!" SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Next was my first corner time, with my hands atop my head, my skirt rolled up, my knickers around my ankles, exposing my crimson and incandescent derriere to the world. At nineteen, I had received la fessée cul nu as a naughty little girl, and was put in the corner.
I eventually slept.
Next morning, Aunty was surprised that we didn't have our usual appetite for breakfast. She even checked our foreheads for fever. After having cleared the table, Margaret took the plunge and announced. "We both got a pink slip."
We handed them and nervously twisted the hems of our Saturday miniskirts. Uncle Archie read one while Aunty Davina read the other. "Unladylike conduct - Fighting in the school's courtyard."
They both frowned, but remained calm. I was surprised. Uncle Archie asked for explanations. Margaret spelled out the whole affair.
"We were cheering our boyfriends playing soccer. The opposing team was cheered by rude girls and boys. Those girls got their boyfriends wild up, with chanting, 'Airing time!' Those boys trussed up Agatha and me."
She blushed at the memory, caught her breath, and continued.
"Marie-Chantal grabbed a cricket bat, and came to the rescue. Mia and Amelia called their brothers. Then it was a big fight. The supervisors separated us, and issued pink slips to everyone. Agatha protested, but they wouldn't listen."
Aunty, of course, knew what 'airing' meant and explained it to Uncle Archie. "It's a nasty girl boarding school prank of raising a girl's skirt, and pulling down her knickers."
At that point, I spoke. "I know that the bigger fight started because of my intervention, but I don't regret it, and won't apologize for it. I had to help my friends!"
Aunty Davina had a wide smile as she said, "You did well!"
Uncle Archie added. "We are proud of you!"
I needed a few seconds to realize what they had said, but my vocabulary obviously needed more time. I couldn't say more than. "Huh!"
They hugged me, and added that they would email my parents. "They will also be proud of you!"
"Margaret, on Monday, you will tell those supervisors that your mother will deliver both your pink slips, to the principal."
He also added. "As for today, we are going to have a barbecue in the garden. We have invited Agatha and her parents. You may invite a few friends."
I invited William, and introduced him to Aunty and Uncle Archie. He was complimented for having been the first to help me. I would never forget Agatha's parents thanking me for having rescued their daughter. The word rescue made me blush. It was a great day.
Monday came. We weren't invited when Aunty Davina spoke to Miss Principal. We would have loved to be flies on the wall. The outcome of that chat was quite fitting. The boys and girls who had attacked Margaret and Agatha were immediately suspended. Twenty minutes later, the two supervisors left.
Our P. E. teach pulled a long face. She had to stand for the fired supervisors. We were very well behaved, and she recovered her smile.
Margaret and I were given a round of high five by our chums. I was a star. Then we were back in class for math. I was no longer a star...
Marie-Chantal and Margaret
To be continued...
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