Marie and Jean met Lucy and George – Part 5/10

To read more of B’s excellent writing, click on ‘Links and Contributors’ above, scroll down to ‘Contributors’. Then click on her section.

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Here is the next part to our story…

Marie and Jean met Lucy and George part 5/10

Lucy had said that my spanking for the fine was no more than a tickle, the one for my poor dictation grade sure did more than tickling.

Jean had also smacked my upper thighs. I protested that it might show under my mini and he said that it would teach me to keep it down. I called him a beast, and he added more stingy smacks.

He helped me up, and I did quite a dance with frantically rubbing my throbbing bum and thighs with both hands under my skirt. He gave me a hug and offered to give me a rub with cold cream. I nodded with a smile and surprised him as I took off my skirt and went to stand in the corner of our living room with my hands atop my head.

I felt that I deserved to expose my glowing bum in the corner after having received la fessée cul nu like a lazy schoolgirl.

I was wriggling my throbbing bum in the corner when I heard the front doorbell. I expected Jean to release me from my corner time, but he didn’t. I prayed that it wouldn’t be some neighbor. It wasn’t. It was George, and Jean must have known he was coming. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, but pressed myself further into the corner so that he wouldn’t see my curls.
George had me shamefully blushing as he teased with. “Naughty girl spanked after her first day in school!”

Jean told me to prepare tea. I quickly grabbed my mini and disappeared in the kitchen. I again rubbed my still fiery bum and thighs, and five minutes later I blushed crimson as I realized that I would have to bend down in front of George to deliver the tray with tea on the coffee table and next to my knickers.

Once done and still blushing, I was about to grab my knickers when George said. “After a spanking, Lucy remains bare butt till the evening, and that applies wherever we have to go.” I left my knickers on the coffee table with a pout. Jean told me to sit at our dining room table to do my homework. Miss Fritton had given me grammar exercises pertaining to my specific mistakes.

Later, Jean gave me a rub and taught me a new English slang word. It was ‘shagging’ and I thoroughly enjoyed the demo!

Next morning, I had adjusted my kilt so as to hide my still well reddened thighs. Lucy immediately saw it. “You best adjust it as short as mine or all the girls will be laughing for the silly, prudish French filly.”

I didn’t want to be the laughingstock of our little school and rolled up my kilt as yesterday. While I did that, she danced around me and tried to raise it. I failed to chase her. She eventually raised it and teased. “Hahahaha! You got your ass tanned like a real English schoolgirl!”

I had a look in the tall mirror of our hallway and saw red blotches peeking under my miniskirt. It was actually barely noticeable, but for me it was like the nose in the middle of one’s face.

At school, none of the girls missed that softy Frenchy girl was well tanned. Lucinda teased, “It was only a few smacks with a hairbrush. Hold your bets, girls, wait till she tastes a good belting.” I later learned that the odds for me to chicken out were now even. I was kinda proud.M

Once in class, Miss Fritton called Amy and me, the two who had flunked the dictation. She told us to stand next to her desk up on her professorial platform. “Turn around, face the classroom, and raise your skirts.” She was satisfied with our chastisement. Although we were facing the classroom and only Miss Fritton saw our bums, I felt a warm glow. I was for sure blushing as red as a British mailbox.

I couldn’t blush more when she read aloud the report from Jean. “I have added a few smacks to her upper thighs because she was rude with me.”
Later, while riding back home, Lucy and I tried to imagined what our boys were discussing when having lunch at the lab’s cafeteria.

The Boys Lunch…

Having sat at their favorite table, Jean and George were soon discussing their equally favorite subject… ‘Spanking’

George passed comment on how they had both been blessed with girls who had beautiful bottoms. “…you gave her a lovely spanking Jean; the red was so evenly spread. You are becoming quite a bottom artist.”

Jean blushed himself at the praise, and confirmed what had been said to him. “Oh, I am so glad we came here. The English love of spanking has soon entered our souls. She protests, of course, and wriggles! The little yelps at every smack are such a turn on! We make love at some point afterwards, do you?”

“Oh God, yes, there is nothing like a spanking session to prepare us for a good shag!” He laughed in return.

It was like a ‘Professor of Spanking’ feeding information and techniques to a hungry pupil.

Techniques, positions, implements were all discussed. Corner time was eagerly consumed. Then they talked of red bottoms, and especially how they look so tantalizingly lovely when poking out from under a tartan mini skirt, especially one which is unsuccessfully being held down to cover it…
George then came out with an idea. “Let’s walk up by the girls’ high school at lunch, and see how many embarrassed young ladies we can see. My record is eight in one lunch hour! Let’s try to beat it!”

“Great idea!”

So, we took a slow walk by Saint Mary. We saw only one young lady with a red bum, but it was the sighting of the year! Three bullies up-skirted and de-knickered one of their classmates.

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