Sunday, May 21, 2023

Marie-Chantal in Germany part 6

Uncle Manfred released me from my corner, and my hands immediately flew from above my head to my blazing bum and thighs. Pulling down my skirt wasn't the priority, rubbing was. Emma picked up my knickers from the coffee table, and led the way upstairs with Eva.

As soon as I joined them they gave me a wet flannel, and I gently cooled down my southern hemispheres. "Aie! Aie! That was quite a spanking!" They also offered a rub with cold cream. I was thankful, and mentioned how nice it was of Uncle Manfred to have let me go.
"He's cool! We never got more than a few smacks on our skirts from him."
From the kitchen we heard, "Girls, please set up the table."
Although the après fessée rub from my new sisters had helped, I carefully pulled up my schlüpfer. Emma teased, "When Eva was caught, Josh had a hand inside her knickers, and she was singing. 'Owww ja, faster! Ya! Yah! Aaaaaaa!'"
Later, as I wriggled in my chair while having my soup I thought. Life's not fair! Eva had enjoyed herself before having her butt roasted. and I didn't. Hans five finger spider had barely reached under my skirt, and I nonetheless got my butt tanned, and well tanned.
The clock had ticked along, it was Monday morning. I wasn't looking forward to returning to school. I had no doubt that everyone will want to know how I was punished for my misconduct in class. A look in the tall mirror of the bathroom confirmed that I was spanked, and well spanked. My bum and upper thighs were still crimson. I adjusted my usual mini skirt, and was horrified to see that my reddened thighs peeked under its hem.

From bellow I heard Aunty Bertha calling us to set the table for breakfast. I was frantically searching for a less revealing skirt. Eva and Emma immediately understood why I was rummaging around my wardrobe. They chimed. "Forget it, you wont be the only girl to have been spanked." I had heard that before in Scotland, and sighed.
As we rode towards our school I was holding my skirt down. In front of us some cat ran across the street and Malena who was also holding her skirt down had to have both hands on the handlebar to avoid it. A nasty wind blew her skirt up, and we saw dozens of reddish stripes escaping her white knickers and decorating her upper thighs.
I immediately thought of the martinet and remembered how one of my French teachers had told Papa to give me a martinet whipping for my poor work. I was thankful that he didn't. Those stripes were different shades of red, from crimson to purple. It must have been a stingy dance.
I also had to have both hands on the handlebar because of that cat, and my skirt flew as the one of Malena. From behind us we heard. "The martinet for the German girl and the leather smacker for Frenchy." We both hastily pulled our skirts down with upper cheeks as red as our lower ones. We were teased all the way to school. One boy kept asking if we had to take our knickers down. Hans silenced him.
Herr Wirtschaft started his class with telling me to bring him my confession signed by my loco parentis. I had one hand tugging down my skirt as I handed him my notepad. Red face I returned to my seat, and saw mean grins on a number of faces.
Later, after classes, Hans whispered to ask me to join him by at the old wash-house of our village. It was of course no longer in use and quite deserted. He again apologized for his brazen conduct, and thanked me for not having mentioned his name. Then he gave me a small gold like bracelet with an amethyst shaped heart.
I gave him a big kiss and his hands explored. He saw the little girls knickers Aunty has us wearing in the hope that we keep them hidden from the eyes of our boyfriends. He didn't laugh when he saw them. He made me sing as Eva had, but I sang in French. "Oh oui... aaah... oui... oui... weeeeee!"
Back home I had quite a glow, and Emma didn't miss it. "You must have creamed your knickers!" I furiously blushed, and Eva laughed as she said, "Close your blouse silly muffin!"
Over dinner Aunty smiled as she spotted my new bracelet.
Before drifting into sleep I mused, if Papa had spanked me it might have saved me those two extra years of school.
Marie-Chantal and co
To be continued...
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