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| Nicola and Priscilla writing lines in detention | |
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| Too much whispiring... |
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| Priscilla's lines are messy... SMACK! on the front of her thighs ... Ouch! |
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| You deserve a bare bottom spanking for such sloppy work... |
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| What is so funny Nicola ? |
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| No longer laughing Nicola ! |
(Adults only)
Two weeks later Monsieur announced that we would be spending a long weekend in France, near Paris, in Versailles. "It is a small school similar to ours. They are training young ladies to be fluent in English, its called Crimson School." We smiled when we heard the name.
"You will prepare your backpacks with everything required for 4 days. Your uniform for travelling will include red tartan skirts, navy blazers, white blouse, white socks, etc." Madame added, "No make up!"
Next morning Madame inspected us. None of us were wearing make up. We didn't want to travel with martinet decorated thighs.
We took the Eurostar, I saw the Calais station, for a few seconds, it looked very modern. At the Gare du Nord, Gustave rented a minibus, and we took the Francilliene outer beltway to Versailles. During the drive we remembered the French Navy cadets who had wolf whistled us at the Gare du Nord. 'I wouldn't have minded a French kiss with hands up under my skirt.'
The Crimson School was housed in a large manorial estate on the outskirts of Versailles.
The French girls were wearing uniforms with shortish grey pleated skirts, navy blazers, white blouses, and grey socks. A gentleman dressed with very British tweed welcomed us. He was obviously a Briton. He was joined by a picture perfect British schoolmarm.
Mister Briton offered a short speech. We didn't miss the nutty gritty line. "As your school, we also believe in firm traditional discipline, and my name is Monsieur Armstrong, and my wife is Mrs Olivia."
Then we were paired with the French girls. "Marie, please release Agathe from her corner time. The two of you will be accommodating Alicia and Josephina..." Marie offered a warm smile, and lead us.
We just about stopped in our tracks when we saw Agathe. We assumed that it was her as she was the only girl standing in a corner of the grand hall. She had her hands atop her head, and she was bare from her navel. Amelia exclaimed, "Ouch! That looks like the cane!"
On the way to their dorm rooms, we further questioned her, and she confessed, "I was caught with cribs."
They had a lovely dorm room overlooking the garden. We dropped our backpacks and offered to help Marie with Agathe's after spanking care.
Josy asked if they are "cane happy".
Marie answered, "That cane is rarely used. Their usual implement is an old leather sole, they call it the slipper. Its very stingy!"
I giggled, "A slipper, that's very British."
Agathe was recovering, "Let me guess! They are using a martinet on you!"
We laughed, and a bell interrupted us. We didn't have to be told that it was time for lunch. "Our menus usually have a British flavor, but with your venue it will be a mix."
After lunch it was dictée for us and dictation for the French girls. The grading system was the same as for us, less 4 points for grammar and spelling mistakes, less 2 points for minor mistakes. We were warned, "Less than 12/20 and you will be punished..."
Although I had made some progress, I only had 9/20, and I was due a severe spanking. Madame Olivia had me show how the French girls are punished. While standing by her side, she first had me raise my skirt and to keep it up while she pulled my knickers down. I was blushing even before bending over her desk with my very bare bottom facing the whole classroom.
She helped me up and ordered, "Take off your skirt." Red face with my bum and thighs throbbing, I was quite convinced to obey. Then she showed me the corner.
Alicia
To be continued...
PS : Victoriana part 2 was edited with a pic of Birchwood Manor
./...
(Adults only)
A first attempt at coloring with help from an O&P friend,
(Adults only)
(Adults only)
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.
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.
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...
(Adults only)
(Adults only)
