188 lines
10 KiB
Plaintext
188 lines
10 KiB
Plaintext
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STORY: Mademoiselle Bellecoeur
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I had been warned, in class, that I would receive a bare-bottomed
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"correction", if I was ever late again.
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Sure enough, next week I slept in and rushed to Grade 11 Chemistry, only
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to get there a good 5 minutes after the late bell. It was a hot day
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in June, but the school was air-conditioned, and she was wearing a tight
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pair of light blue jeans and a violet V-neck blouse which plunged rather
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nicely. After peering in the window, I opened the door.
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Irritated at the interruption she looked up and *glared* at me.
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"I'LL SEE YOU AT 3 O'CLOCK, PAUL! NOW GET TO YOUR SEAT!"
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My heart was beating fast; I had been warned more than once.
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The class (mostly girls) gave each other questioning looks. This was
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a side of Mlle. Bellecoeur no one had seen before. Her first name was
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Anne-Marie but she was "Madame" or "Mademoiselle" to us (the correct one
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was Mademoiselle, because she was single) The rest of the day passed far
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too quickly, with butterflies in my stomach. It was the feeling I usually
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got just as the rollercoaster came over the top. I went home for lunch,
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unable to eat much. She wouldn't really *hit* me, would she? Nah,
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probably she would give me detention or extra work to do. Corporal
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punishment was unheard of, these days right? And besides, I was a Grade 11
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now, wasn't I? Graduating in a year, exactly. Still, that LOOK in her
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eyes...
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History passed far too quickly, with the teacher blathering endlessly.
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Most of the year's marks were in, this wasn't even a required course, and
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it was HOT outside! The students around me were as active as lizards in the
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noonday sun, but I was wide awake and fidgeting. Those seconds seemed to
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go by twice as fast -- but I was also tired of waiting. Wait a minute,
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this is silly. Me, 5'8'' and 150 lbs was going to get turned over some
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woman's knee? Ridiculous! Yes, I would just
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march right in there, and if she tried anything, just laugh at her. Hmph!
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Geography was much the same. I nervously counted the seconds. 3:00!
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Bzzzzz! The class chattered excitedly -- no homework, Friday afternoon,
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and a beautiful week-end coming up.
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A little less confident, I walked to my locker and put away my books.
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I dawdled, finalizing plans for an overnight camping trip tomorrow. Finally,
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I headed down the now deserted west wing of the school, where the science
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labs were. Always the last one out of the Science labs, Mr. Carruthers
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wished me a good weekend and headed out. My sure-mindedness seemed to ebb
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as I pulled the heavy lab door open. It banged shut behind me.
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"You're late!" , she remarked calmly. Wow! I'd forgotten she was the
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girls' gym teacher too. Dressed in white T-shirt and a pair of very short
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gym shorts, she stood with arms akimbo at the back of the room.
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"All, right come over here. Have a seat." Heart beating a little
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faster, I walked down the aisle and sat on the lab bench across from her,
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our knees almost touching. She hopped on the high lab bench opposite,
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and began lecturing me. I couldn't help but notice the referee's
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whistle, the way it rested on the beginning of the curve of her small,
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firm breasts. Bra straps were visible on her semi-bare shoulders. Her
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class had just finished, and a drop of sweat rolled from her neck, down,
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down, ... This room was *always* cold -- a loud fan suddenly started
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at the front of the room. She changed position, and her magnificent, bare
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leg brushed against mine. So smooth, they were, and tan ...
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"Paul! Are you listening to me??" she demanded.
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"..ah OUI Oui! madame!". She continued to harangue me, and I assured
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her that I would *not* come late again. Hmm! was that was it then. She
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was going to let me off with a lecture and no extra work.
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But she abruptly jumped up. "Ok, Paul get ready. I'm going to spank
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you now. I'll be right back." She strode into the adjoining room, the
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lab office where students weren't allowed, her shirt tail floating behind
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her, providing just the slightest hint of brown skin.
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WHAT!? I couldn't believe it, and broke into a cold sweat.
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Nervously I got up, and paced a couple of steps... it didn't matter, for
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she came right back through the swinging door with a pair of keys jangling
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in her hand. "Ha ha, very funny!" I said, not at all sure of myself.
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"No joke, Paul. You're going to get a spanking, une *bonne correction*"
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she said, looking me straight in the eye, from very close. "I warned you
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more than once -- this is something you really deserve." I caught the
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delightful scent of her perfume, and .. what was that ... even her deodorant,
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Arrid. She unlocked a drawer with the keys and pulled out a gleaming
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steel ruler. *WHACK* it slapped against her palm. Ohmigosh, she's really
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serious-what-will-I-do..
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"You can't be serious, Madame, I-"
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"THAT'S ENOUGH!" she cut me off. "Now, take off your jean shorts and
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shoes, and put them on that desk" Still confused, and now pretty scared,
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I complied, while she locked the drawer again. "Come here." she commanded.
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She turned me facing the lab bench and wall and went to retrieve the
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ruler, a long, wide businesslike one with, *what* was that ... it looks
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like a HAND-GRIP on one end!
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"Get ready" Incredulous, I hooked my fingers in my boxer shorts,
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(the ones with dalmations all over) and prepared to strip before this
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magnificent woman.. A certain, ah .. firmness began to develop, mercifully
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hidden against the lab bench.
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"That's fine, you can leave your boxers on" she intoned, "Now bend
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over!" She firmly pushed me right over on the bench, with my feet firmly
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on the floor still. I spread my legs slightly, and hung on to the lab
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faucet...
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*WHACK* The first blow caught me squarely. "Now, Paul, this is for
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your three lates last week..." *WHACK *WHACK* *WHACK* *WHACK* *WHACK*
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That flurry of blows marked my stinging introduction to real discipline.
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But the correction had scarcely begun.
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"You were late on Monday." *WHACK* *WHACK* *WHACK* The cotton shorts
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were providing no protection against the slaps. Oooh that hurt!
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"Tuesday, you missed a homework assignment." *WHACK* *WHACK* *WHACK*
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*WHACK* This was having an effect. I began to squirm and protest,
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"But Madame, on Tuesday I--"
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"*Silence!* *No* *arguments* *from* *you*". She punctuated each
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word with a very hard slap.
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"Wednesday, you were late AGAIN." *WHACK* *WHACK* *WHACK* ... this
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was becoming unbearable, and I began to get up... "We're not done yet..
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down you go" *WHACK* *WHACK* *WHACK* another triple smack drove the
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point home. She paused to catch her breath. I was desperate, the heat
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from my (no doubt red) backside was intense, and my toes curled at the
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thought of much more of this punishment.
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"As I said, Wednesday you were late." *WHACK* *WHACK* -- I whimpered
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slightly and rose slightly to shift position. "Look Paul, you have to
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stop moving around." She came around the bench to look intently in my eyes.
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"You're going to get a real good spanking. I realize that it hurts, but
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you have got to take it like a man. All right?" She lifted my chin with
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the ruler. I nodded, wide-eyed.
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"Here we go. Wednesday!" *WHACK* *WHACK* *WHACK* *WHACK* *WHACK*
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These last blows drove me against the bench, until I strained on tiptoe,
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trying desperately to get away from that awful implement. I had no choice--
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I tried to get up desperately...
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"that's IT!" Exasperated, she dropped the ruler and looked me
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straight in the eye, and paused. Suddenly she grabbed me by the scruff
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of the neck and the back of my shorts and wedgie-walked me quickly to the
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front of the room, where a chair sat all by itself on the floor. Ignoring
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my protests she sat down, and with a single motion stripped my shorts down
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to my ankles. My T-shirt was yanked off and tossed aside. However,
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I had no time to contemplate my humiliating situation,
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because she smoothly slid me onto her lap, and then ... nothing.
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What was she waiting for? I braced myself... She began to berate me
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about moving during punishment, and concluded that this licking was
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not over, yet...
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>SLAP< >SLAP< >SLAP< She paused and berated me some
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more.
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For the next few minutes, she alternated spanks with solemn lectures
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on the virtues of punctuality, respect, and hard work. I began to
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breathe faster, felt a whine coming on and suppressed it. All around
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me was Her scent, the tantalizing rustle of Her shorts between smacks,
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and the cool smoothness of Her legs as my erection pressed firmly against
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Her bare thigh. Ooh how it hurt. I wanted to beg, plead for her mercy.
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Finally, she paused to rub her hands. My erection became rock hard,
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checked only by her leg. She pulled off her right shoe. Uh oh!-
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WHACKK! WHACKKK! I yelped helplessly with each blow... this was going
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to be it; she was going to break me. I would be utterly humiliated,
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unable to look her in the eye. My eyes filled with tears..
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Perhaps sensing victory, she stopped. Dropped the shoe, and OH if
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that wasn't the best sound in the world! Gratefully, I mustered the
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shred of dignity that I still had and stood before her as she got up.
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Her eyes looked me over, paused low, with a hungry look. "OK Paul, I
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think you got the message. You can get dressed." Gingerly, I retrieved
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my boxers which had somehow flown over three aisles. The jeans came
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on last, slowly and painfully as she watched, hands on hips.
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Why I did this next, I don't know; but just before I left the room, I
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had to brush by her. Turning, I looked her in the eyes and kissed her
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on the cheek. "Thanks, I needed that!"
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Curiously, she blushed now even though all through my lesson she remained
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cool. Embarrassed, she barked "Ok Ok get going or you'll go over my
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knee again!" and emphasized the message with a reminder spank. Playful or
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not, it sure hurt my stinging, tender bottom so I yelped and scooted to
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the door. As I exited I saw a strange look come over her face and she
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began to breathe quickly. As I reached the other end of the deserted
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school, I could faintly hear cries of ecstasy from the science wing.
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