Sunday, April 9, 2023

Marie-Chantal in Scotland, part 8

As soon as we were allowed out of our corners, I rubbed my still throbbing bottom and thighs. The sting was so intense. I even danced on the spot while rubbing. I was about to take the stairs two by two, for dipping my derriere into the bathtub, when Aunty Davina said, "Don't forget your knickers!"

 I picked up my knickers from the coffee table and ran with Margaret. I followed her lead for the after spanking care. She has more experience! We first surveyed the damages in the tall mirror of the bathroom. Our bums were a deep shade of crimson. I was surprised. I thought they would be bluish. I realized that Uncle Archie only meant to teach us a lesson, a stingy lesson, but no more. Margaret gave me a wet flannel. While I rubbed, she prepared a cold bath. We undressed and shared it.

From below we Aunty announced, "Soon time to set up the table girls!"

Although we weren't expecting anyone for dinner, I wanted to hide the shameful tawse stripes decorating my thighs. I was about to wear the knee length family tartan kilt, when Margaret said, "It isn't Sunday!" As her, I was again wearing my school skirt.

For dinner we fidgeted in our seats. With my sore bum, I was super self conscious that I was, at nineteen, punished as a lazy school girl. Uncle reminded us our goals. I was keeping my head down and my eyes on my plate, till he sternly added, "Understood Marie-Chantal!"

I had to raise my red face, and answered, "Yes, Sir."

Then it was Saturday. We were all invited for a barbecue by Agatha's parents. They were returning our previous invite. We had little choice, it was cords or jeans miniskirts. We modeled them, and they were the same length. Margaret advised, "The cords, they are softer."

Blushing as red as our thighs, we just about ran across the front yard to jump onto the back seat of the family's Jaguar. Then we looked out to see if the pimpled face boys of the neighbors had seen us. There was no one about. "Phew!"

Agatha's parents welcomed us with pecks on our foreheads. Next, our friend greeted us. We saw her thighs were their usual peachy color. She explained, that she had redeeming good grades in English literature.

"Lucky besom!"

She smiled, but she also rubbed her bum.

The barbecue, with gigantic grilled shrimps, and spicy chicken drumsticks, was great.

With my friends I overheard the chat between Agatha's mother and Aunty Davina.

"Archie gave your French girl a good taste of Scottish discipline."

Aunty replied, "We are hoping she understands it is about time to pull up her socks."

I blushed.

Next was Sunday, and mass. With our knee length McTavish kilts we didn't advertise that we were punished. With the merciless church's straw chairs, the old church mice soon spotted the naughty ones. The after mass priory garden socializing was embarrassing with Aunty Davina telling the neighbors that we were punished. I already imagined our return to school on Monday.

It was to be worse than I had imagined. First there was the high above the saddle uphill ride. As usual the boys waited for the girls and followed them closely to feast their eyes. A few "good" girls with peachy thighs and bums teased them. A few more, as Margaret and I, rode as fast as we could. The boys eventually disappeared into their part of the school. "Phew!"

While we waited in line to show a supervisor, that our report cards were duly signed by our parents, comments fused.

"Judging by the colorful of Frenchy's thighs, she must have had her ass well tanned."

I was relieved when Lucinda stole the show. She had narrow blueish cane stripes peeking under her uniform skirt.

./.

I decided then, that I didn't want to be back in school, at twenty-one, as Lucinda. I resolved to work real hard. I slowly raised my average grade. I avoided grades under 10/20.

A few months later, as Margaret, I got my A-level with honors. We danced after having read our names on the roll of honor. William and Arthur joined us, and we danced the more.

I thanked Aunty and Uncle. They were as emotional as I was.

"Sorry lass to have given you the tawse."

"Sorry to have deserved it."

We hugged, and I promised to visit them regularly.

A few days later I was back in France with Papa and Maman. They beamed with pride. I was bilingual with English. I spoke even faster than Papa!

German was next.

Marie-Chantal

To be continued in Germany...

 

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Saturday, April 8, 2023

M is for ?








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Friday, April 7, 2023

Attitude


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Thursday, April 6, 2023

Hard at work


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Wednesday, April 5, 2023

Oaks and Pines School Role Play Game

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Sunday, April 2, 2023

Marie-Chantal in Scotland, part 7

Mrs. Robertson had left the classroom. For a few minutes, it was only the sound of leafing through our report cards. Lucinda was first to sigh.

Our friends Amelia and Mia were exchanging high five, and already imagining how they would spend their extra pocket money.

Agatha didn't look too happy.

Margaret summed up her report card for me, "8/20 for that French dictation, and average grade down to 11.71/20."

I told her about mine, "7/20 for that math quiz, and average grade down to 10.37/20."

She repeated, "7/20! You have a grade below 8/20!"

I nodded with eyebrows doing an interrogative dance.

"It’s the tawse!"

"What's a tawse?"

"It's a Scottish strap, split lengthwise."

"Huh!"

"It stings like the Dickens!"

Agatha joined us, "It's also the tawse for me."

Margaret sighed, "For me as well. I am under my required 12/20 average, plus that poor grade in French."

Although I had never seen a tawse, Margaret mentioning that it stings like the Dickens led me to visit the loos.

The ride back home was somber. We were jealous of the exuberance of Amelia and Mia. We were in no mood for chitchatting with our boyfriends.

Once back home we found Aunty Davina and Uncle Archie in the lounge. They were obviously waiting for us. I gave my report card to Aunty, because she was closest to me.

We were standing in front of the coffee table while they read them. They exchanged them, and continued reading. They didn't look too happy.

"Marie-Chantal, isn't Margaret helping you with your math?"

"Yes Ma'am, but it was a surprise quiz."

Uncle Archie spoke, "We are very disappointed. Margaret that 8/20 for the French dictation is appalling, and your average is below 12/20."

He continued with my report, "Marie-Chantal, a grade under 8/20 is a disgrace, and your average has slipped."

We were heads down, with our hands already rubbing our behinds when sentence was passed. "You will both receive eight strokes of the tawse. Margaret please bring the tawse."

I had never looked into that drawer where the hairbrush is kept. She opened it, and pulled the tawse out. I discovered a leather strap split length wise till its handle. I mused, it's like a double belt. Having never had a belt applied to my bottom, nor any serious spankings, I again needed the loo.

Margaret had also visited the water closet. When we were back, Uncle sternly ordered. "Take off your knickers both of you. Drop them on the coffee table and bend down till having your hands flat on it. Each time you are breaking your position you will get an extra stroke."

Aunty Davina raised our skirts. I blushed crimson. Although being nineteen, with my bare bum up in the air, I felt like a gamine about to be punish for poor schoolwork.

Uncle Archie started with Margaret. I heard a loud SMACK and "OUCH!" which suggested that it was going to be une sévère fessée.

Another loud, SMACK! A split second later, I was louder than Margaret with, "OH! AH! AIE!"

A wide stripe of fire was burning across my derriere.

Margaret got her second stroke, which she greeted with another convincing, "OUCH!"

Then I got mine. SMACK! The stripe of fire devouring my bottom had grown wider. "OH! AH! AIE! AIE!"

Margaret got her third. She was more vocal.

I remembered Papa's having told me. "Maybe I should have spanked you, when you were lazy with your homework..." That train of thoughts was interrupted by, SMACK! I duly responded with, "OH! AH! AIE! AIE! AIE!"

I felt my eyes watering. I was indeed being punished for my poor schoolwork, and being nineteen meant nothing.

We just about sang for the following strokes. I wriggled my fiery nates in vain attempts to cool them. I had to open my legs to avoid falling. I shamefully closed them with my ears tickling from embarrassment. After a few more smacks I didn't bother. I felt tears, and my whole bum was on fire.

Uncle Archie announced, "Your last stroke will be across your thighs, for the shame of showing everyone that you have been punished for laziness."

I just about jumped out of my socks with that stroke, and it was repeated. My butt and thighs were a burning inferno, but I remembered not to rub. Aunty rolled our skirts up, and we were sent into our respective corners in the dinning room.

"Sob... Sniff..."

I was for the second time cul nu au coin exposing my incandescent derriere to the world. I further tightened my hands atop my head to refrain from rubbing. I was well punished. I couldn't help sniveling.

Marie-Chantal and Margaret

To be continued...

./...

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