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Wuthering Moors part 1

Alicia and Betty had bought a jalopy to celebrate their new drivers licenses. They had a week till the new term at their university. Plenty of time to explore the moors of Yorkshire. The ruined Whitby Abbey, the Bronte sisters, Bram Stoker, the wind, and it was so romantic...

Their jalopy was a 1967 red Triumph, a convertible, of course ! Needless to say that it was no longer in its prime, but it still looked good and run well. The girls took turn at the wheel and drove fast, and faster because their hotel was still an hour away and it would soon be dark...

 

Suddenly the engine of their lovely automobile clanked and rattled. Betty declutched and they freewheeled down the country road to a passing place. They tried their phones, but there was no signal. There was also no traffic. They looked under the hood, there was plenty of steam, and the engine was leaking on the pavement. Alicia chimed, "We have overheated ! Lets had some water..." They did and the engine leaked the more. Betty concluded, "We must have busted something..." They pulled the top up and loaded their backpacks with the basic. "Keep it light, we don't know how far we are going to have to walk..."

 

They started walking, it wasn't too warm, they had thought of backtracking to get their Levis, but Alicia pointed to lights on the moors. "There's a house over there !" They left the single lane road for a graveled track. As they got closer Betty enthused, "Its huge !" She giggled and added, "It looks like a haunted mansion..."

 

It was almost dark, and they were quite surprised when they met two girls their age. They weren't ghosts ! They were uniformed 6th formers. They remembered when they took their A levels a few months earlier.

 

"Oh my ! Those shorts ! Boys must be drooling !"

 

Alicia laughed, "They do ! We have to fight them off !"

 

Betty queried, "Would you have a phone ? Our car broke down we have to call a garage and our hotel..."

 

"There was a storm and the phone line lost one of its poles..."

 

"What about a village ?"

 

"You have to return to the main road, turn right and follow it..."

 

Alicia asked THE question, "How far ?"

 

"About 10 miles..."

 

Betty cringed, "Argh... I am starving !"

 

Jenny, one of the girls offered, "We'll give you uniforms, and you'll spend the night, and you will tell us how you have been fighting off the boys !"

 

Louise the other girl wasn't sold, "What about the nuns ?"

 

Jenny reassured her, "We'll hide, and they will have the same number of girls !"

 

Louise nodded, "Should work, we'll give you lunch-boxes to fill up with grub for us..."

 

Alicia was curious, "What kind of a school is it ?"

 

Jenny answered, "Its a district remedial school for those who have flunked their O or A levels..."

 

Betty almost forgot that she was famished, "Wait a minute ! A district remedial school means the cane !"

 

Louise blushed, "Only for major misbehavior !"

 

Alicia laughed, "When we were at Saint Mary, you had your butt walloped quite a few times !"

 

Betty blushed, "The cane stings like the devil !"

 

Alicia nodded.

 

Jenny cooked up a plan, "We'll take you inside by the basement. You will wait there with Louise while I get your uniforms. I'll go up by the service stairs, no one will ask anything, I am the Head Girl..."

 

Ten minutes later, in the basement, Jenny was back with our uniforms and two more girls. We took our shorts down under our knee high regulation skirts.

 

 Jenny presented us with school girl knickers. "You best not wear fancy undies..."

 

Betty snapped, "I don't intend to have by bum smacked !"

 

Louise chimed, "If you're out of luck you best be wearing those !"

 

We were about to pack our shorts and tops when the girls wanted to see our undies. We laughed and obliged. They exclaimed, "Whoa ! Lacy silk ! Black and red !" They mimicked wearing the lingerie...

 

One of the new girl named Antonia asked, "Whats you car by the way ?"

 

Alicia answered, "Its a Triumph TR 4..."

 

The new girls smiled, "Whoa ! A vintage convertible ! What's wrong with it ?"

 

Betty explained, and that new girl reassured us, "You've busted a hose, it can be repaired with duct tape, I know my Pop owns a garage..."

 

There was a bell, it was time for dinner. Antonia and the other girl offered to hide. Jenny and Louise promised to get them chicken legs and chips, and lead us to the dinning room.

 

We were impressed by the dining room with wood paneling, old wooden tables and chairs, uniformed nuns, and a modern kitchen with a great buffet. We were famished and we enjoyed...

 

Alicia and Betty

 

To be continued...

 

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In French its called une fessée cul nu !

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Ballerina part 4 - Epilogue

I was facing one of the corners of the grand hall with my uniform skirt pined up with clothespins, and my knickers were down to my knees. I was blushing and desperately wanted to rub my scorched bum, but I had to keep my hands on top of my head.

A new girl and her parents were visiting. Her father didn't sound too happy. "Five years of pricey lessons for nothing..." They stopped in their tracks. One second earlier the heels of the mother were tip-tapping the marble floor of the grand hall, and they suddenly stopped. The father teasingly chimed, and it was obviously for his wife, "That's a well punished young lady, it must bring back memories ?"

She laughed, "It sure does !" She added for her daughter, "That's the tawse..." She was interrupted, "Mummy please, that's horrible !"

"It will straighten you out ! You only have a year till your exam..." She paused before adding, "It was a severe regime, but it did me a world of good. I made the Quadrille exam of the Paris Opera Ballet, and I met your father..."

I again blushed as a tomato when the father questioned, "What have you done to deserve such a punishment young lady ?"

"I was texting in bed after lights out..."

"How many strokes did you get ?"

"I got 12, Sir."

The girl again protested, "Whipped for texting ! Maman please !"

./...

 A  few days later was the big day, I was to retake my Quadrille exam. Judith delayed her flight for New York to accompany me. In the locker room at the Opera I kept asking her if my leotard covered my tawse decorated bottom. Twice she said that it didn't, and I again tried to stretch my powder blue leotard.

Two other girls joined us. One of them who had obviously notice my reddened derriere said, "Sigh! There's only one vacancy and there's a Margot girl !"

"Don't be negative ! She might slip !"

"A Margot girl doesn't slip ! She gets her butt severely walloped every time she slips !"  

"You're making too much of that Margot girl !"

"Look at her bum !"

 "Hummm..."

The jury's secretary called me. Judith joined Papa, Maman and Mademoiselle Margot in the visitors box. I announced that I would be dancing a solo part from Le Lac des Cygnes. "My star" who had referred me to Mlle Margot gave me an encouraging smile. She also discreetly saluted her old mentor.

I flew ! It was magical !

The jury stood and applauded. Mlle Margot also stood and applauded, and Papa and Maman and Judith !

I bowed and beamed... A victorious blue swan with a red bottom !

I was joined by my parents, and Judith. Mlle Margot gave me a peck on each cheek. I beamed, it meant much more than my diploma of Danseuse Professionelle. I was acknowledged by the Prima Ballerina Assoluta as a full fledged danseuse.

She also teased the jury's danseuse étoile after giving her a peck on each cheek. "Your days are numbered my dear... but I am looking for an associate !"

She turned to my friend, "May I introduce Judith, she is going to be the next étoile of the New York City Ballet. I will be flying to New York for her exam."

I asked Papa and Maman, "May I go as well ? Please ! Please !" Papa agreed, and invited everyone to the Eiffel Tower restaurant...

./...

A few days later Judith's parents were waiting for us at JFK with their limo. Miss Margot had asked to be dropped at her hotel, but she was invited to their West 59th Street penthouse apartment. Judith as a dutiful young lady of the house lead her guests to their bedrooms facing Central Park.

For the next two nights it was recovering the jet lag for Judith. Then it was the day. Miss Margot and Judith’s parents took their seats in the visitors box. Judith and I were on our way to her assigned locker room. On the way we giggled as we heard two dance Mistresses chatting...

"Have you seen that fifty something woman dressed in black ? She walks as if she is the Queen !"

"She is the Queen ! She Is Mademoiselle Margot, THE Prima Ballerina Assoluta. If she has a girl competing, one of ours will be done with..."

Judith was called and I gave her a resounding smack on the derriere for good luck. She readjusted her leotard with a deep blush.

When she walked I noticed that the danseuse étoile presiding the jury saluted our mentor who smiled in return. At this level they all know each others. Also in the visitors box were the two Mistresses, and I overheard them again, "Sigh! There is a Margot girl !"

She announced her solo part of the Nutcracker, and she flew as I did. She also did a number of sauts fouettés and landed on her pointes. She alternated from right to left pointe. The jury offered several, "Ah!" Then she did a huge grand jeté. The jury had an enthusiastic "Oh!" and stood and applauded. 

Later, Isabelle told her the conversation between those two Mistresses,

"There ! You now know whats a Margot girl !"

 "Landing on a pointe ! I wouldn't even try that ! How did she teach her that ?"

"With a belt !"

"Huh!".

Miss Margot shook hand with the étoile, presiding the jury, and they agreed, "A star is born..."

Isabelle and Judith

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Waiting...

 

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Ballerina part 3

We were awaken by the none too melodious, "Wake up girls !" from our dorm mistress. "T-shirts and shorts for the morning run !"

We stood by our beds to be inspected, and I was well aware that my shorts weren't covering the two cane strokes decorating my upper thighs. As yesterday I again felt well punished for my failure.

The other two dorms joined us in the entrance hall with their own dorm mistresses. I knew that jogging in the Bois de Boulogne at 7 am could be dangerous, but our dorm mistresses were armed with tonfa or nunchaku, and a pair of German shepherd doggies also joined us.

We alternated jogging and running. It was show time for early rising bums and junkies. Eighteen superb girls with short shorts and a few of them with reddened thighs were quite a sight. If a spectator with itchy hands came too close a doggie and a mistress with a nunchaku were quite persuasive.

When back at the academy it was communal showers. Judith and I blushed with embarrassment, and our roommates laughed, “We’ve seen it all !” Then there was our school uniforms as if fourteen years old. Wearing a short skirt and ankle socks with a sore bum did convince these eighteen years old to toe the line. A pair of soft cushion magically appeared as Judith and I sat down for breakfast. We thanked our roomies.

Next we started the day with a choreography class. Alicia hadn't reread the prep. The mistress pulled her across her knees by the ear as if a ten year old, exactly as matron did with me. She raised her skirt, pulled down her knickers and spanked her bare bottom and thighs in front of the whole class. Although Alicia must have felt as a spanked schoolgirl it wasn't a schoolgirl spanking, it was a spanking for a big girl with a short leather paddle which gave her bum a blazing crimson colour. That episode was concluded with, "In the corner with your knickers down to your knees and hold your skirt up !"

During the mid-morning break we changed for exercises à la barre. We wore leotards short wrap around dance skirts, and the mistress had a long hickory switch. If our pliés weren't as elegant as she expected she adjusted our positions with gentle painless taping. When she felt that we hadn't adjusted as required she flicked her switch with more vigour, and it was very stingy. If she felt that we weren't giving it our best we lost our dance skirts and she made it even stingier across our bums.

For lunch there was more soft cushions, but there was no resentment. All the quitters had left by now and we knew why we had remained. There was a few, "Oh la la! She roasted my ass !" A few teasers added, "That will teach you to reread your prep instead of having naughty dreams !" We joyfully chatted and it was my turn to be teased. "Yoh! Isabelle, you were a success this morning with that young tramp with the blue bandanna, the one who said that he would love to pluck your cherry !"

"Yuck! He smelled like a billy goat !"

"Hahahaha! No sense of adventure ! Imagine your fingers exploring his hairy chest..."

“Yuck! He probably has flies !”

After lunch it was a mandatory siesta as if we were in kindergarden. On our beds with PJ shorts and singlets. Although Tomiko had shushed us, Judith kept whispering and our dorm mistress caught her. "Since you were caned yesterday I will spare you my leather paddle... You will nonetheless receive a very French fessée !" She grabbed her PJ shorts, pulled them right off, and spanked her bottom and thighs till glowing. Judith had a bare bottom nap, and she didn't catch a cold !

Later we dressed with our tutu to work on our best performances. We would be video taped and all our steps were to be reviewed by our dance mistresses. I wore my beautiful powder blue leotard and tutu. I performed my favorite Swan Lake solo. I was happy with it, but Miss Classroom Spanker slowly ran the tape to point my mistakes. They were small mistakes, but they added up. "And there's no guts in your performance !" I was told to re-dance it.

I was nervous, I slipped and landed on my sore derriere. I was given a second chance and again slipped. Unfortunately I had fallen on exactly the same figure. She was furious ! She announced in French since French is the language of ballet, "C'est la fessée cul nu !" She pulled my leotard into my rear valley and spanked my buns till blazing.

I had to again re-dance it, and was warned that I would be spanked till not slipping on that figure. "No! Don't readjust your leotard, I want you to feel your red burning butt being on show !" The girls clapped their hands to reinforce the tempo. With my derriere on fire I was very careful, and didn't slip. Miss Maïa applauded.

Isabelle

To be continued...

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A bathbrush spanking

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