Marie and Jean met Lucy and George – part 2/10…

It was a busy first week for Marie and Jean. He discovered his new job, and she bought bicycles for the two of them. She tested hers by visiting the nearby village and since the sun peeked, she ventured into Cambridge. The old cobbled streets of the historical center were quite bumpy for bike riding.

I discovered a surprising shop. It was a school uniform shop. There must be a few of those in France for private Catholic schools, but I never came across one. An attendant welcomed me and asked the name of my school. I had a wide smile as I realized that I was taken for a pupil.

“Oh, I am no longer in school.”

The attendant smiled the more. “Oh, you have a lovely accent! You’re French?”

“Huh, oui, huh, yes.”

“Welcome to Cambridge. Feel free to have a wander.”

I saw mothers buying school uniforms for their daughters or sons and heard an irate mum scolding her offspring. A couple of smacks were echoed by girly squeals and I remembered Lucy’s fessée. If I had any doubts about English Discipline being a fact of life they were now well dismissed.

I was surprised by the quality of the school kilted skirts. The attendant who had welcomed me was back. “Everyone wears the Royal’s red Stewart tartan, but only the French were officially granted that privilege by Bonnie Prince Charlie.”

I smiled for the attendant which had to be Scottish to know such a detail.

She felt encouraged and asked. “How short would you like it?”

I took that as a challenge. “As short as a British mini, but not too short.”

After having tried one, I blushed. “Oh, that is quite short!”

She had a teasing smile. I blushed the more, but I bought two.

On the way back home, I rode above the saddle to avoid the bumpy cobbled streets. Little did I know that I was flashed by one of the police street cameras because those cobbled streets are actually pedestrians only, and bicycles are to be pushed, not ridden.

A few days later, we invited Lucy and George for lunch. While we were having aperitifs, the doorbell chimed. Jean had opened and found a mailman with a registered letter. He rejoined us and George recognized the envelope. “It is a summons!”

He also teased Jean. “You must have been speeding with your new Range Rover!?”

Jean smiled in good humor, opened the envelope, and read. “We have identified Mrs Marie Durand has having rode her bicycle in a pedestrian only zone and we regret to have to impose a fine of £25…”

George again teased. “If it was Lucy, I would give her a jolly good spanking on her bare bottom. That’s how we deal with naughty young ladies in this old country.”

Lucy blushed, and I felt a hot flush. I imagined that I must have blushed redder than her. The subject of spanking was elegantly changed by George, and we had a pleasant lunch.

Later, after the departure of our guests and having cleared the table, I felt guilty. I should have seen the street signs about pushing bicycles instead of riding them. The words of George saying that Lucy would receive a spanking for such a fine vividly came back. I would never be able to explain how I plucked the courage to tell Jean. “Je mérite la fessée.”

I blushed and felt my heart beating faster. What if he said that it is an awful idea and that he will never do it? My dream of last night to be over his knees and spanked as I had imagined Lucy’s spanking in the kitchen would remain a dream.

Jean was quite surprised by Marie’s request, but he couldn’t help being excited. Don’t deny it, you know you will enjoy it, and she is asking for it, and she deserves it. Hell! Go for it, roast her bum crimson!

He had a surprising smile and gently pulled me across his knees. I felt my mini rising, and he started pulling my knickers down. I protested, and he helped me up. I was confused. Has he changed his mind, is he having second thoughts? He told me to stand up straight, hands by my side. I thought that he was only going to lecture me.

He produced the summons. “A fine, £25, you’re a naughty girl! You are going to taste a real spanking, une vraie fessée. You are getting twenty-five good smacks on each cheek, bare cheeks. Lucy would be spanked on the bare and so should you! Take your knickers down, right now!”

I felt a warm, shameful glow as I lowered my knickers. He again gently pulled me over his knees. I felt a cool draft as he rose my mini. I closed my legs as tight as I could. I felt like a silly little girl about to be spanked by her strong, handsome professor. I remembered Monsieur Dupont, my science teacher, sternly telling me that I deserve la fessée.

Oh boy, what a spanking it was! A volley of powerful noisy smacks ignited my cheeks. I echoed with Oh! Ah! AIE! and OUCH! I wriggled my bum under his punishing hand. He grabbed one of my arms and gently brought it behind my back to keep me up on his knees, and continued my spanking. I offered more AIE! OUCH! AIE! OUCH! As my bum was burning and throbbing. I felt my eyes moistening.

I was receiving la fessée cul nu that my science professor had suggested. I remembered Lucy being spanked behind the swing door of her kitchen and how she had echoed George’s resounding smacks.

I imagined Lucy and George watching my fuzzy peach while I pedaled my legs under Jean’s chastising hand.

Suddenly he stopped, and I was panting, and my bum felt on fire. He helped me up, and I danced while having my hands up under my skirt rubbing my fiery butt. He masterly ordered. “Hold your skirt up, nose onto that wall while sticking out your bottom!”

I obediently stopped rubbing, held my skirt up and wriggled my throbbing derriere. I had received the bare ass spanking I had imagined, and wanted to rub more than my bottom.

I wasn’t more than two minutes in the corner. He probably couldn’t resist the sight of my red moon much longer. He carried me to our bed room. The fuse reached the gunpowder!

B and Asa
To be continued….