David Holbook could think of nothing else. The Lower Sixth French exchange trip. He was going on the trip but that wasn’t what made him think of it day and night. No it was the fact that Elaine was going. Elaine Lindale who was of course his girl. His steady, permanent girlfriend.
They would be staying with French families, each one of them with a different family. So naturally that included Elaine. She would be staying in the house of a Frenchman in other words. That was how David viewed it. And that was the main thing, the central horrendous fact in David’s mind. For two weeks this Frenchman would have Elaine at his mercy. To do what he wanted with her. And everyone knew what Frenchmen wanted. They were gropers of girls’ bottoms for a start. But more than that — they were bottom spankers if they got the chance. If they had a girl staying with them, at their mercy. Especially a super-looking girl like Elaine: a really pretty girl with a marvellous figure. This dreadful French bloke would probably go bananas. Probably forcing Elaine to submit to having it on the bare: her bare bottom spanked.
But even that wasn’t all. Bad as it was, it wasn’t the worst thing reverberating around in David’s head. No, there was also the other. The worst thing by far, but which you knew this unprincipled and sex-crazed Frenchman could do to someone like Elaine. He could be doing her. Screwing her. Forcing her in some way, in the privacy of his house, to submit to it. Quite possibly screwing Elaine every night once he had started. Poor, desperate Elaine would be looking pale and trembly in the mornings, her lovely eyes dark-ringed with lack of sleep from what this awful bloke had been doing. And also of course from worry: her frantic fear that her host had got one in her oven and had made her pregnant.
But she wouldn’t be able to say anything, just shake her head and try to force a smile: ‘No. I’m f…feeling OK…’
What did Elaine think? Did she share David’s thoughts of the coming trip? What she said was, ‘Don’t be silly David. You really are being silly. Frenchmen aren’t any different from anyone else. From, well, Italians or Germans. Or English come to that. There are certainly Englishmen around with gropy hands. Don’t you know that?’
David wasn’t going to argue about Italian men who of course everyone knew were the most awful bottom gropers — and Germans could be just as bad, some of them he had heard were sadists with a cane. And also he didn’t want to argue that there weren’t certain awful English blokes. He had already been appraised of Elaine’s next-door neighbour, Mr Borring, who was as English as they came and who had groped Elaine’s bottom on a couple of occasions when she had had to go round to his house on errands. David had told her she should complain, to her parents or the police. But anyway Elaine wasn’t going to be staying with Mr Borring for two whole weeks. And this Frenchman was bound to be a whole lot worse than Mr Bolting.
But what did Elaine really think? Well of course she wasn’t going to say so to David but in fact she had reason to believe that some of what he said was going to be true.
Unfortunately. Not the screwing, she didn’t think she would get that. But spanking, yes. Because Elaine had been told whom she would be staying with in France, and she had spoken to the girl who had stayed with him last year, Angela Fernley. Angela had finally told Elaine about it, after making her swear not to tell a soul.
His name was Monsieur Vardon. There was also Madame Vardon, his wife, but her presence hadn’t stopped M. Vardon doing what he had done. M. Vardon was one of the school governors which was why he was able to have someone on the exchange staying with him even though the Vardons no longer had school-age children. The someone staying with him was of course always a girl. A good-looking and shapely girl, that was M. Vardon’s simple requirement.
And Angela, on being pressed, had finally told Elaine about it. It seemed M. Vardon had this rocking chair. That was what he used. Sitting in this chair… and then getting you over his lap. It had these rounded wooden arms with spaces underneath. He made you get over his lap with your head through the space on one side and your legs through the other one. Like that you were trapped, you couldn’t try to roll off his lap, or squirm away. It was like being caught in a trap, Angela said. A really awful feeling. And then… M. Vardon pulled up your skirt. And pulled down your knickers. And proceeded to give you a really hard spanking on your bare bottom. And it wasn’t just once or twice. Angela thought it was six times she was over his lap like that. Six times!
Angela hadn’t told anyone, not her parents or Mr Compling or Mrs Rything of their French department who had taken them on the trip. She couldn’t bear the thought of the awful embarrassment of having it known. But Angela had mentioned it to her friend Melissa and Melissa had got the same sort of thing. Not with a rocking chair, but also getting her bare bottom spanked. Melissa also hadn’t told anyone. But as far as Angela knew other girls could have got it too. It could be pretty general, but naturally no one wanted to talk about it.
Well this was certainly a bit of a shocker. Because if Angela had got it (not to mention Melissa) then Elaine could expect the same. And the thought of being held over her host’s lap in this diabolical armchair was quite nauseating. Trapped like that… and then those fingers pulling up your skirt… Pulling down your knickers… The fingers creepily on your bare bottom, fondling and feeling. Then finally the smacking. That male hand cracking heavily down.
It was all really too awful to contemplate and Elaine had the thought of withdrawing from the trip, on some excuse or other. But that wasn’t on because French was one of her main subjects. She was hoping to do it at university and so she definitely needed to go.
So all Elaine could do was try to laugh off what David said. David who seemed to have guessed the truth — although he was also suggesting the other thing as well. That this M. Vardon would also be doing her. Screwing her. That at least was just an awful figment of David’s over-active imagination. Surely. Yes? Elaine then had the nasty thought that if M. Vardon had done it to Angela she pretty certainly wouldn’t have wanted to tell. And also Elaine hadn’t asked her about that thinking it too awful, and impossible, to mention. But no, he couldn’t possibly have done it. Whereas the spanking was possible alright. Oh yes. And this sickening rocking chair.
The French school was in Normandy, a smallish country town called Becamp about 20 miles from the coast. There were 18 of them going, ten girls and eight boys, with Mr Compling and Mrs Rything again. Would either of those two know about it? Elaine wondered. That girls could get their bottoms spanked by the men they were staying with.
On the ferry everyone was naturally very excited. In the bar Mr Compling said jokingly, ‘Don’t drink too much, I don’t want to arrive with people being sick.’
But no one was drinking a lot. Everyone seemed in high spirits. Including all the other girls. Elaine wondered if any of them had heard any whisperings, or had any thoughts of their own. And then she had another thought, looking at Mrs Rything. Sandra Rything was quite young, in her twenties, and also nice-looking. She would have been going on a trip like this herself as a schoolgirl not so long ago. Therefore… she could have had the same? Thinking this Elaine didn’t want to meet her eye, because Mrs Rything would therefore know, or guess.
Elaine forced herself to dismiss the thought, it was just silly speculation. And there was after all the possibility that none of it was true, that Angela had made it up as a joke. But Elaine didn’t think that.
She caught David’s eye. Was he still worrying about it? At this moment? Looking at him Elaine had a sudden strong sexy feeling. Perhaps it was the rhythm of the boat; she had read somewhere it could have that effect. She caught his eye again and indicated she wanted to leave.
Outside in the corridor she gave him a quick sexy kiss, then whispered urgently, ‘David, let’s find somewhere nice and quiet.’
They found a secluded corner on the next deck down, smelling a bit of oil and engines. Making a moaning sound Elaine pulled David to her as she stood with her back against the wall. She was feeling almost overwhelmingly sexy now, more than she had ever felt before. They had not started doing it yet. Not started screwing. David sometimes tried to persuade her they should start but Elaine thought she wasn’t ready for it, although a number of girls in their class did. But now… she felt she really wanted to. Right there. A hot urge to have David’s thing up inside her. ‘T…Take my knickers down,’ she breathed.
After a nervous look round David reached up under her short skirt. His hand cupped Elaine’s pussy through her knickers and she almost collapsed with excitement. Her sex was all wet. Throbbing. She really would have let David do her. Right there standing up against the bulkhead. But David wasn’t prepared for it; too nervous with the thought that someone might come along and discover them. His hand at her throbbing cunt was good enough though. Moaning, she worked her hot slit against it. And it seemed like just in seconds she was coming. With a shuddering squeal on those clutching fingers.
She felt awful afterwards, ashamed at herself acting like that. Like a common tart, a wild animal almost. It was the rhythm of the boat she told herself, and she told David that too in embarrassed explanation. But Elaine knew it wasn’t just that. It was what she was going to get in France. This Monsieur Vardon who got a girl over his lap in that awful rocking chair. Over his lap and then pulled down her knickers… and got his hand at her bare bottom. It was a supremely awful prospect. And it was going to happen, there was no way she could avoid it. It was really awful… But also deep down, scarily exciting too. And it was really that which had got her so hot and desperate down in the bowels of the boat.
The coach took them to Becamp and the school where they were to meet their hosts. They were gathered in the school hall: teachers, one or two of the school authorities, also the people they would be staying with. It was evening now, 8 o’clock, and after a couple of brief speeches of welcome they would be dispersing to the various homes. Elaine would be going off with this Monsieur Vardon. She felt herself breathless with scary excitement as they trooped in. Her hand clutched at David’s arm. She knew what he would be thinking. Not about the family he would be going off with, but her. Elaine being taken off by one of these Frenchmen in this group of people they were now approaching. One of them in this sea of faces… would have her tonight. He would have her at his mercy.
Someone was calling out their names. They had had the short speeches and now it was happening. Girls, boys, awkwardly stepping forward as their names were alphabetically called, to be claimed by someone in that knot of people. David, who was just before her… and then it was her own name. Elaine Lindale… She stumbled forward on rubbery legs, looking vacantly for an instant. Then a man and woman were smilingly stepping towards her.
He was medium height, in his fifties, with grey hair and a trimmed greying beard. Elaine’s confused mind just about took that in. Madame Vardon was the same sort of age, pleasant looking, but Elaine’s head wasn’t registering any details of Madame Vardon. No. She tried to smile. And speak. You were supposed to greet them in French but she wasn’t sure what she was saying. They were speaking to her, in English. Elaine tried to make herself concentrate. Out of the corner of her eye she saw David. His eyes focussing on her. And of course on Monsieur Vardon. David would be thinking those things. What this man was going to be doing to her. She felt dizzy she probably looked odd, ill perhaps. M. Vardon took hold of her arm.
And then they were all going out. Dispersing to the different homes. In the car park M. Vardon held open the door of his car for her. And as Elaine bent to get in… his hand was briefly at her bottom. A quick but quite deliberate and intimate fondle at the cheeks through her thin summer dress.
In the car and driving off M. Vardon said, ‘I think she’s even prettier than Angela last year, don’t you Helene?’
Elaine was sitting next to him with Mme Vardon in the back. Mme Vardon with a laugh said, ‘Yes. Certainly.’
M. Vardon’s hand came down onto Elaine’s thigh. ‘Yes prettier and I think with a lovely body.’ The hand squeezed her flesh through her dress. ‘Angela was a very lovely girl too of course. A very lovely guest. I expect you have talked to her Elaine? Yes? About everything do you think?’
Elaine stuttered a reply. M. Vardon’s hand had now pushed back the hem of her dress and was on her bare thigh. She badly wanted to push it away but somehow couldn’t.
‘My rocking chair,’ M. Vardon said. ‘I think that is the correct term. Did Angela tell you about my rocking chair? Did she tell you of its special use?’
M. Vardon’s words induced a shiver down Elaine’s spine. What could she say? What did come out was a sharp exclamation. ‘Oohh!’ Caused not by the mention of the rocking chair but by Vardon’s hand which was almost at her knickers. Some response was crucial and, almost apologetically, she placed her own hand in front of it. As for the rocking chair, what could she say?
It was in a large room overlooking the garden This big room with just the rocking chair at one end.
‘Here we are,’ M. Vardon said. ‘My special chair for girls. Angela has told you?’
‘Y…Yes.’ He had his arm round her waist. He was taking Elaine on a tour of the house. Downstairs Mme Vardon was putting out something to eat. Elaine had been shown her own room and all the rest. And now, kept until last, here it was — the thing which had been filling Elaine’s mind ever since Angela had told her two weeks ago. It was exactly as she had described it. Those rounded wooden arms that held you, preventing any real movement. While M. Vardon…
His hand slid down to her bottom. Cupping the full near-side cheek. Elaine trembled, but it wasn’t the first time. M. Vardon had already been at Elaine’s bottom several times as he had shown her round. And there seemed an inevitability about it, there was nothing she could do or say. He was going to fondle her bottom… and he was going to have her over his lap in this chair.
‘In the morning,’ he said, his hand leisurely enjoying the shapely contours of Elaine’s rear. ‘We will come in here before breakfast. Then we will get properly acquainted. Yes, my dear Elaine?’
M. Vardon turned her to face him, pulling her close with both arms round her. She gave a little gasp. M. Vardon had an erection, big and hard against her belly. His two hands cupped her bottom and rubbed her against it.
In bed Elaine brought herself off. She couldn’t help it, she was all hot, desperate, just as she had been on the boat. She moaned into the pillow as her fingers supplied urgent relief to her wet and aroused pussy. Her head was full: of the scary chair; of David and that heady session on the boat; of Monsieur Vardon’s big stiff penis grinding against her. Angela had said nothing about that, it had only been the chair and the spanking. She was going to get the spanking. He was going to do it first thing in the morning. But… anything else? Because David of course had gone on about the other. She had laughed at it. Not that it was a laughing matter. But she hadn’t considered it a possibility. But now.
She had put on her tartan skirt with a white short-sleeved blouse and a tie. With white knee socks and her black low-heel shoes. It was a reasonably formal outfit for her first morning at the French school, but that would be later, after breakfast. If Elaine could eat any breakfast. It didn’t seem very likely at the moment, not the way she was feeling. Her stomach was full of butterflies, it certainly couldn’t contemplate breakfast.
She was standing at M. Vardon’s side. He was sitting in the chair. The rocking chair of course. Smiling at her. Asking if she had slept well, in that cosy little room. And then telling her to please get down. He wanted her kneeling down, at the side. With her body up through the chair’s arm.
She felt light-headed. Not sure if this could really be happening. At last. Thinking fleetingly of David. What was he doing? Brushing his teeth perhaps. And thinking of her. Thinking perhaps that Monsieur Vardon had been doing her all night. Screwing her in that little bed. After spanking her of course. Yes spanking. She was now going to get the spanking. Over M. Vardon’s lap.
She had her face in his lap. Kneeling as he had instructed. Which was not fully over his lap as Elaine had imagined and Angela had said. No it was her face in M. Vardon’s lap. And… he had an erection. It was quite unmistakable. It was… right there.
He was talking. Saying something, in a soft coercive voice. As his hand softly stroked her hair. But Elaine wasn’t taking the words in. All she could think of was this big thing. M. Vardon’s thing. His big erect penis. Right here next to her face.
And then the words did come through. Had she expected it? He wanted her to pull his zip down. The zip of his jeans. Yes of course. Angela. She had done this? Yes. Elaine was sure she had. Although naturally Angela hadn’t said. Just as she, Elaine, would not say. Not ever. Not to a soul. That she…
She had that light-headed feeling still. Like being in a dream. Although she knew it wasn’t a dream. She had the zip down. It was jutting out. Quivering erect. Frightening. Her head was spinning. It was frightening but at the same time… she had that same feeling as on the boat.
M. Vardon wanted her holding it. Stroking. His own hand had slid down to her bottom now. ‘We will do the spanking in a moment,’ his soft voice said. But first of all I want…’
The stroking. And then he wanted her mouth…
She was in a real state. Perhaps she would faint. She had never done that. Not to David. She had held his. Stroked it. Until he came. But not this. Not her mouth. She didn’t want to do it. It was too big for one thing. But at the same time… there was that part of her that did want to. And anyway she had no choice. She was here with Monsieur Vardon. He could do what he wanted with her. For two whole weeks.
David was already at the school when she arrived, looking out for her with eager eyes. Desperate to question her. Getting her into a corner where he could ask his questions. What was her place like? What were Monsieur and Madame Vardon like? But meaning of course Monsieur Vardon. What was he like. And what had he done. Yes desperate to be reassured that her host hadn’t done any of those things. Hadn’t done anything. Hopefully hadn’t even fondled Elaine’s bottom — although maybe perhaps being a little resigned to that because maybe it was inevitable. Frenchmen always fondled girls’ bottoms.
Yes desperate to be reassured — but of course knowing that if M. Vardon had done anything much more Elaine probably wouldn’t tell.
‘OK,’ she said. Hoping her voice sounded alright, normal. Though it didn’t sound normal to Elaine and perhaps this wasn’t entirely surprising. Was she flushing? She hadn’t had any breakfast, hadn’t been able to face any. And there was still something of the taste of Monsieur Vardon in her mouth. Even though she had vigorously brushed her teeth afterwards. And her bottom was still hot. Still tingling from those quite hard smacks. With her knickers down and her skirt raised. M. Vardon’s hard hand crisply smacking down on her bare bottom.
Did David believe her? Were his eyes searching, trying to see something in her face? She gave him a quick hug and said hotly in his ear, ‘I love you!’ It was time for their first day at the school and then after just a few hours Monsieur Vardon would be picking her up in his Peugeot. Taking her home… to the rocking chair again. To have her knickers taken down for another bare-bottom spanking. With probably before it, or maybe after it, that other. The other mind-boggling thing.
They were all there milling about, waiting for the first class. The other girls, the boys. She wondered about the other English girls. What had they had last night, or this morning? The same? Something else? Maybe some of them… nothing at all?