Sunday, November 7, 2021

Victoriana part 4

I wasn't the only one to be staring at that martinet while Monsieur corrected our test papers. I even mentally pronounced it as we were told, 'mar tee nay' without the final T.

Monsieur stood and descended from his professorial platform to give us back our corrected papers. I almost wet my knickers when I saw that I had 7/20. I knew what it meant, and didn't have to wait.

"Alicia, 7/20, you should be ashamed of yourself, and I will make sure that you are! Come to the front of the class, stand on my platform facing the class and take your knickers off. Drop them on my desk and raise your skirt front and back."

I gradually blushed. First as a pink rose when standing on the platform in front of my classmates. Then as a reddish tulip, as I took my knickers off as discreetly as I could. Finally as a deep red peony when I raised my skirt and exposed my curls and derriere. 

 Monsieur didn't stand next to me on the platform, he remained on the floor, probably to better address my seat of learning with the martinet. "You will be given 12 strokes on your derriere and thighs, each time you drop your skirt, the stroke will be repeated."

I got two strokes on my bum. They were very stingy. They were followed by a stroke across the back of my thighs. That was stingier than the first two. I dropped my skirt and danced. I raised it again, and the stroke was repeated. I again danced, but kept my skirt up. Next the front of my thighs felt the martinet. It was stingier than stingy. I again dropped my skirt, "AIE!" It was repeated, "AIEEEE!" Those two were the worst so far.

That dancing lesson was repeated twice. Each time the martinet caressed my thighs I dropped my skirt, and the strokes were repeated. I received eighteen strokes, my bum and thighs were fiercely throbbing.

"Keep your skirt up and stand by that wall facing the class."

Quite contrite and red faced, I lowered my head. I promised myself to learn that test by heart.

I wasn't the only one to be given la fessée cul nu au martinet. Josy aka Josephina was next and she was lucky not to have to keep her skirt up.

Lunch followed, and it was very French and superb. The Chef offered to teach each of us a French dish. I enthusiastically raised my hand and asked to learn how to prepare a cassoulet.

There was no resentment after that taste of the martinet although a few of us were still rubbing their thighs. Josy teased. "We now know that you are a real red head!"

Everyone around the table giggled, and while blushing, I returned the compliment, "And you're a real blonde!"

Amelia was still having rosy cheeks for having showed us that she is shaved, but none of us teased her.

The afternoon was about singing in French to work on our fluency and accent. Two of us couldn't sing. Monsieur understood and had them theatrically recite lines from Les Misérables. He taped us, replayed our performances and mimicked our worse mistakes. 

"When teaching a classroom of thirty pupils the professor can't do more than give you the pronunciation." He added, "If you can't pronounce a word, do your best. To be fluent isn't about having a perfect French accent, it is about having an easy flow."

He was very good at having us repeat till having a proper accent and flow. He even created silly phrases adapted to each of us. For me it was about the S with, 'Les chaussettes de l'archi duchesse sont elles sèchent archi sèches ?'

Later, we gathered in our common room to sew our name tags and reverted to English. Josy summed up. "That martinet was so stingy!"

"The welts don't last."

"How do you know?"

"I was in France as an exchange student, and I got a super whipping."

"What did you do?"

"Don't tell, let  us guess. You were caught with a French boy having his hands under your skirt?"

She smiled and shook her head negatively.

"His hands were inside your knickers!"

She blushed with a wide grin and we laughed.

I was rubbing my decorated thighs, and she added, "On the thighs, the welts take an extra day to fade. It was quite embarrassing when I had to go to the boulangerie for bread."

After dinner we watched "Les Misérables" in French.

Alicia

To be continued...

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Sunday, October 31, 2021

Victoriana part 3

The ride back home offered a mean dilemma. Sit on my skirt and have the saddle none too kindly massaging my still throbbing bum, or pedal high above the saddle and have my skirt flying and showing all the farmers working in their fields my well smacked thighs. I decided to remain firmly sat on my saddle, and all the way back home I was firmly reminded that I was spanked cul nu as a paresseuse.

Monday morning I accepted the Calais offer and gave the Ecole Ecarlate's invoice to my manager. He raised both eyebrows when he saw the amount.

"I will be fluent in 3 months, Sir!"

"I sure hope so!"

He must have read the fine prints and found the no refund policy if the pupil gives up the program. He sternly added, "Don't you dare quitting!"

He further warned with a sterner voice. "Your father who was my mentor at the home office before his retirement has asked me to encourage you as severely as required. Don't disappoint us!"

I couldn't help a deep blush for that warning.

On the way back home, I stopped at Victoriana. "Good evening Ma'am, I am to join the Ecole Ecarlate and I need a full kit."

She had a big smile, "I'll be right with you."

As she disappeared into the fitting room, I saw in the tall mirror a glimpse of a well reddened derriere peeking out of white knickers. 

 A few minutes later, I recognized Josephina from the City Hall. We had a brief exchange, and she agreed to wait for me. The idea was to have tea together.

The seamstress had me kitted, "You will also have blue and red tartan skirts, white and navy knickers, and shorts for sports as you can't always be always cooped up in class."

"Its £417, please. Everything will be ready tomorrow. Same as for Miss Josephina."

After having paid, we went to the nearby coffee shop and ordered high tea. I cheered, "So we are going to be school chums!"

Josephina explained, "I am taking the EU Commission's exam, and I need to be fluent in two foreign languages. I already have Spanish thanks to my mother, so am taking French because its mostly another Latin language. What about you?"

"I am offered a promotion as Deputy Manager of our Calais branch and I have to be fluent in French. I bought a skirt from Victoriana, and it came with a leaflet for the Ecole Ecarlate."

"As you know, my father is into real estate. He helped the Ecole Ecarlate buy the neighboring farm to extend its estate, and thats how I heard of them.

Monday came. With trepidation and a big backpack I tickled the old door with the brass knocker. Monsieur Maurice opened, and after an amiable exchange of greetings he led me into a large living room with a mix of antic and modern furniture. I found six girls in their early twenties like me. We were each handed a brochure about the school's ethos, rules, and regulations, and were soon joined by two more girls. We were all wearing the school uniform with one of the tartan skirts, and were very well behaved. I guessed that was because we had tasted the écarlate welcome spanking.

Monsieur Maurice was joined by a stern lady, "Madame Yvonne is my wife and with the help of a cook and his assistant as well as two maids, she will look after the house. We also have a gardener, Monsieur Gustave, who will double up as your PE coach. Everyone is of French origin and will speak only in French. From now on you speak French or you will be punished!"

Madame Yvonne led us two floors up to discover our domain. "You have the whole floor, four bedrooms with three beds each, and a common room with telly, and mini fridge. On that floor, we understand that you won't be speaking in French, unless addressing us or our staff. Tonight you will sew name tags onto every piece of your kit to help us with the laundry." She handed each of us a supply of tags with our names. She continued with allocating rooms, "We have teamed you according to your test results, Alicia and Josephina, in the blue room."

I exchanged high five with Josephina aka Josy. We dropped our backpacks and followed Madame for more. "The second floor is reserved for Monsieur Maurice and I. It also offers two studios. One for guests, and one for the chef's assistant and his wife, who is one of the maids."

Next we were back on the ground floor, "You have already discovered the lounge and Monsieur Maurice's office." A few of us retrospectively rubbed our derrieres. "Over here we have our dining room, the kitchen, and last but not least the classroom."

Monsieur Maurice led us inside the classroom. We almost stopped in our tracks when we saw a small whip with multiple leather thongs hanging next to the blackboard. Monsieur wrote "Le martinet" on that blackboard. He also explained, "It is the perfect implement for helping the memory of lazy young ladies."

"All of your tests have showed that you are, as most English speakers, confused by the French masculine and feminine. Therefore we will have regular tests like this one. I will dictate 20 words and you will write M or F for each of them. If you score less than 12/20, it will be la fessée. If you score less than 8/20, it will be le martinet cul nu!"

Alicia

To be continued...

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Sunday, October 24, 2021

Victoriana part 2

Saturday morning I was wide awake before my radio alarm clock. It told me that it was 6 AM. I realized that I wouldn't be sleeping another Z. I got out of bed and prepared a toast with slices of French goat cheese. I mused, Imagine France, that goat cheese will be cheaper, and you will have an expat allowance.

I had decided last night. I was going to visit the Ecole Ecarlate. I of course, knew that écarlate means scarlet. What a strange name for a school. I also wondered about that promise of guarantied results. I further mused, What about the méthode traditionnelle, and the school uniform? The little wheels between my ears teased. It adds up, you will be spanked till you are fluent!

I shrugged. I am not afraid of a spanking. Daddy spanked me till I got my O and A Levels, and continued till I graduated from my banking school.

With a second cup of coffee, I searched on my cellphone for that Birchwood Manor at Switchingham Village. Once I had found it I tried 3D, but I got a "Private Property" message. TomTom said that it wouldn't be more than a twenty minutes bike ride.

After a long shower and having dried my hair, I pulled up my new white cotton knickers. I also selected a very conservative matching bra. The Victoriana white blouse and the shortish tartan pleated skirt followed with the black sweater. Next were the knee-high socks and I selected a pair of black brogues. In my tall mirror, I smiled for having traveled back in time. 'Back to school naughty girl!' To be safe with the cloudy weather, I added a lightweight hooded raincoat.

It was a leisurely ride, and before the village, I took the long private alley leading to Birchwood Manor. I discovered a lovely old stone house with a superb English garden. 

 I parked my bike and gently tap-tapped the door with the old brass knocker. A middle-aged gentleman with an impressive mustache and an elegant tweed suit opened.

"Good morning Sir, it is about the French lessons."

"Indeed! Compliments for the uniform. I am Monsieur Maurice.”

He led me into a small office with two comfy chairs in front of an old wooden desk. I immediately noticed the magazine on his desk. Its name of Janus meant nothing for me, but the picture on the cover confirmed what I had imagined about the méthode traditionelle.

"We shall begin with a test. We have to assess your level to decide if you have the basics for turning you into a fluent French speaker." He showed me an antic school desk with an attached seat.

The test took one hour, it was written and oral. With that cover of Janus in mind, I did my best, but he grimaced for my accent. While he corrected the written part, I prayed that he wouldn't reject me.

 Finally he gave his verdict, "C minus, a barely average grade."

I blushed, "I am sorry Sir. Does it mean that I don't have the minimum requirement?"

"Hahaha! Why is it that important to be French fluent?"

"Its about a promotion and a great position with our agency in Calais."

"It will take 3 months, alternating 3 weeks with us including weekends, and one week back at your bank."

"Phew! Thank you Sir!" I beamed. I was elated.

"How many years of French have you had?"

"Seven years, Sir."

"Such a poor grade after seven years of French. You should be ashamed of yourself."

I lost my smile.

"It is evidence that you were lazy. You deserve to be punished."

"Huh!"

"As a lazy girl you will be severely spanked on your bare bottom."

"Oh!"

I couldn't say that I was surprised when he stood and pulled me over his knees. It was nonetheless quite embarrassing to be pulled by the ear as a ten-year-old. 

He swiftly raised my skirt. I expected that much, but he lowered my knickers. Daddy had never pulled down my knickers, he only pulled them up. I felt a hot flush and knew that I was blushing as red as a peony. 

He spanked my bottom and thighs. I tried to keep my legs tightly closed. He had callous hands, probably from maintaining that lovely garden. He spanked hard and counted the smacks. After forty smacks, I started pedaling my legs and no longer cared what I was showing. He pinned one of my arms behind my back, and had one of his legs locking mine, and continued.

"Repeat after me for your first French lesson. Les paresseuses sont toujours fessées cul nu !"

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"OH! AH! AIE! AIE! Les paresseuses sont toujour fessées cul nu. OUCH! AIE!"

I got one hundred smacks. I had never received such a long and severe spanking. My bum and thighs were throbbing.

He helped me stand up and ordered, "Don't rub! Stand in that corner with your knickers still down and holding your skirt up." I was quite contrite. "Sniff!" I was indeed back in school and already spanked, well spanked.

While I was in the corner, he asked for my full name, age, address and more as he completed my file. "You will be boarding, sharing a room with 3 girls. The next term starts in a week. Your bank will have payed my fee by that time. There's no refund if you quit before the end of the term. If you quit, your bank will be made aware of that. You will return to Victoriana for a full kit."

"Yes Sir."

"I promise that you will be fluent, as if you had a French mother. Pull your knickers up, adjust your skirt and give this invoice to your bank. You will notice that my methods aren't mentioned. You may, if you want, tell your colleagues that you will be spanked as a naughty schoolgirl till you are fluent."

"Oh, I won't, Sir!"

"Very well, run along."

Alicia

To be continued...

NB : Les paresseuses sont toujours fessées cul nu = Lazy girls are always spanked bare butt.

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PS : The pic of the young lady being pulled by the ear is from Contemporary Life