After ten long minutes of corner time, I was sternly told to turn around. "Have you decided to confirm your request for me to coach you?"
Red face, hands atop my head, bare from my navel to my socks, and with my still throbbing bum and thighs, I said, "Oui Monsieur."
"Very well. I promise you a very sore derriere if you don't apply yourself. Put your knickers back on, and lets go to your room."
"Every other day I will be inspecting your room. If I don't find it perfectly clean and organized it will be la fessée cul nu plus ten minutes in the corner, and I don't care who is visiting, understood?"
"Oui Monsieur!"
Then he opened my cupboards. "Take out all jeans and trousers, from now on you will be wearing only skirts or shorts. All skirts should be pleated and five centimeters above your knees."
"Oui Monsieur!"
"Get dressed, fetch the cane behind the door of my daughter's room and hang it behind your door. Then find me in the lounge; we have some shopping to do."
After having dressed I discovered his daughter's cane, and shuddered as I hung it behind my door. I didn't need much imagination to understand that such an implement could be very very stingy.
I tugged down my skirt to avoid showing a few martinet stripes. I found him in the smaller lounge. He lead me to the garage where I discovered a superb vintage Citroen DS convertible. We drove to a bicycle shop, and he announced. "I want a classic bike for my niece, none of those electric things for lazy girls."
He had called me his niece, I liked that and smiled. He told me to choose it, and approve my choice before paying for it. He then told me to follow him at the Cultura bookshop. It wasn't far, we walked, and I made sure that my skirt didn't fly to show how I had been a naughty girl who had deserved the martinet.
He told me to get a basket, and I followed him. He added numerous school books into my basket. I noticed how he also selected a few psychology magazines about self confidence.
Next was the Decathlon sports supermarket. He told the attendant. "I want a good beginner's racket, and a full tennis outfit with shoes for my niece."
He actually chose the racket himself. When trying the shoes I was sure the attendant's eyebrows briefly danced. I had no doubt! He must have caught a glimpse of my martinet decorated thighs. I couldn't help blushing like a naughty schoolgirl.
Monsieur discreetly frowned when I looked at a tennis outfit with a longer skirt, and nodded for one with a short pleated one. He pointed to a display of skimpy running shorts, and told me to chose a pair. I did and blushed the more. He again paid for everything.
Then we returned home, and after having dropped the box of my new bike under the shed, I asked about my old electric one. "Lets keep it, if we go together for a ride I'll use it."
Next was unpacking and neatly storing my tennis outfit and running clothes. He had kept the school books. I found him later in the lounge reading the psychology magazines he had bought. I warmed up the meal Adele had prepared for us, and as usual he set up the table. While we had lunch, he said that losing my nerves is about self confidence. I nodded.
"Self confidence and self esteem are closely linked, and you are for sure embarrassed by your chubby bottom. We will trim it with plenty of exercise, and you will discover that you are a beautiful girl. I will call my daughter's old tennis coach, and we are going to build your self confidence with teaching you to play good tennis."
It made sense and I smiled. I asked about expenses. "I will work that out with your parents."
I had cleared the table, and started the dishwasher when he said. "Change for tennis, your coach is on her way."
I stammered. "B... bu... bu..."
He finished the sentence for me. "Yes, with that short tennis skirt she will see that you were punished, as well as the neighbors, and that isn't something out of the ordinary in our neighborhood."
The middle aged tennis coach lady couldn't have missed my decorated thighs, but she didn't even raise an eyebrow. Monsieur smacked my skirted bottom as he said. "On the court naughty girl, and meanwhile, I will be assembling your bicycle."
I had a wide smile as I said. "Merci Monsieur!"
The tennis coach had me running everywhere, and since I returned very few balls she had a basket full of balls to keep me running. I didn't have time to see if the neighbors were watching. Anyway Monsieur had said that another punished girl in the neighborhood wouldn't surprise anyone.
Back on the terrace I toweled dried myself, and with Miss Coach we found him by the garage. He had finished assembling my bike, and asked for her verdict. "She's a good girl, she will learn to reach for the stars!"
I giggled for that pompous vote of confidence.
Monsieur General laughed and added. "If she doesn't, its la fessée cul nu!"
Having said that he told me to try my bike for adjusting the saddle...
Patricia
To be continued...
./.
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