You will find much more of B’s work if you click on ‘Links and Contributors’ above. There you will see a link to her own blog, full of wonderful stories and pictures (art and photos). And you will find a link to her exciting on-line spanking game, click the link below….
Whilst you are on ‘Links and Contributors’, scroll down to ‘Contributors’ because there you will find the rest of this story, and more too!
Marie and Jean met Lucy and George part 8/10
Back home, Jean teased with asking if he could ‘happen’ to be at the Morrison’s when I’ll be timidly asking, “Please Sir, may I have a school cane.” I frowned, and refused. “No way Jeannot!”
“I could be lenient…”
I frowned the more, and didn’t give into his blackmail attempt.
Saturday morning came all too soon. Lucy had offered to tag along, and teased. “I want to see how red you will be blushing when asking for a school cane!”
I laughed. “Probably as much as you when you asked for your own cane!”
It was decided that early morning would be the best time, because there would be fewer customers. Lucy advised locking our bikes in front of the pharmacy across the street. “When you’re out of the Morrison’s you won’t want to walk down main street carrying a school cane.”
“It could be for my son or daughter?”
She laughed, “Hahahaha! You’re twenty-four as I, and a daughter old enough to be caned would be at least fourteen, meaning that you would have had her when ten.”
“Huh!”
I remembered my project of attending a programming school, and work from home designing programs. It meant my A-levels with honors, and Miss Fritton’s own program for me to have good grades.
I was determined, and bravely said. “Lets do it!”
Main Street was quiet, but it wasn’t deserted. I pushed the door of Morrison and just about jumped out of my knickers and miniskirt because there was a loud shimming gizmo. I immediately saw that we weren’t alone. There was an old lady who had ventured too far from her church, and a pensioner who feasted his beady eyes on our bare thighs.
The portly Mr and Mrs Morrisson were behind their counter. I figuratively pulled up my socks and asked. “Good morning Sir, and Ma’am. Please, may I have a school cane?”
Mrs Morrisson had a wide smile as she greeted me and queried. “Good morning, Ma’am. Is it for a boy of a girl?”
The little wheels between my ears spun at a rate of knots, and I imagined that a cane for a boy could be more severe. I answered. “It’s for a girl.”
“How old is she?”
I remembered Lucy having said that I can’t possibly have a girl old enough to be caned and tried to be realistic and clever. “She’s my niece and sixteen.”
Mrs Morrison had a wider grin as she told her husband. “Sixteen, old enough to have the same cane as a boy!”
I felt like kicking myself. Quelle Idiote! You should have said fourteen, not sixteen!
Mr Morrison disappeared to get the implement of my future chastisement. I felt a hot flush and knew I was starting to blush. I prayed he wouldn’t take too long, so I won’t have time to glow as red as a British telephone booth. I saw that Lucy was also blushing, and that wasn’t helping me.
I was thankful to see Mr Morrisson already returning. He handed me my cane with a strange smile. For a second, I imagined that he was going to offer to test it on my derriere. I paid him, and almost bumped into the lecherous pensioner on my hasty way out.
I also heard Mrs Morrison asking her hubby, “Isn’t she the new French lady?”
He confirmed and added. “She also attends Miss Fritton’s old school, same as her friend.”
“Oh, I remember her. She bought a cane two months ago, and it was for her niece.”
I felt my ears tickling. I was, for sure, blushing as red as a tomato. Lucy also had quite a glow. We ran across the street. Hurriedly unlocked our bikes and rode off as fast as we could. For speed, we rode high above the saddles, and our miniskirts flew. We for sure showed our belted upper thighs, but disappearing from Main Street was the priority.
Safely back home, over a cup of late morning coffee, we imagined the chatting between the Morrissons, the old lady, and the pensioner.
I laughed as I played Morrison, and imitated his falsetto voice. “Hmmm… there seem to be a lot of naughty nieces out there!”
Lucy echoed for his wife. “It would be a song for sore ears if one of them said. Please Ma’am, may I have a cane for my hubby to chastise my naughty bottom?”
Lucy was enjoying her part and continued. “Of course Ma’am. How severe should it be? Mr Morrisson could have you sample a few. We have a high stool in the store room for discretion as it will have to be on your bare bottom.”
We giggled as we imagined the pensioner listening with quite a flush.
I again played Mr Morrison, teasingly adding. “Soz Ma’am forgive my wife, with the latest delivery there’s no space left in the store room. It will have be somewhere around here.”
Lucy laughed out loud as she further teased. “As we rode off, I was behind you, and your knickers did a poor job of covering your well belted butt.”
“Yes, I suppose they did!”
“You purposely wore such skimpy knickers!”
“Yes! It was indeed quite naughty, but it’s such a thrill that someone might see my knickers, and that I was punished as a schoolgirl.” I remembered my first exhib at the picnic place of the fish and chips truck.
She laughed the more. “Since you have never felt a cane been applied to your bum. I should give you a taste.”
“Huh!”
She giggled. “So that you know what to expect!”
B and Asa
To be continued…
