Our first story with a French setting
By Wendy A
In my second year at University I had the opportunity of a placement with a large French insurance company. I seized at the chance of living in France for 3 months; it would enable me to improve my spoken and written French. It would also look good on my cv.
The job would be in one of their regional offices in a major city in the South of France. I learnt that there would be two or three students from other European countries and also some French students.
In late May I packed my bag and headed off to France. The train journey was long and tedious as I had to change trains in Paris. I finally reached my destination at nearly 10pm and took a taxi to the hostel where I would be staying for the first week. The room was tiny and I had to share a bathroom with other girls. The first night I was so tired that I did not care and fell asleep immediately.
I did not set my alarm and woke at nearly 10am. I found that I was far too late for breakfast and headed off to find a cafe. My meeting at the insurance company was not till 2.30pm so after a wander round the city centre I had a salad in a small backstreet restaurant.
I found the insurance company’s building with ease; it was only about 15 minutes walk from the hostel. The building was huge, I counted 10 stories and there was an imposing entrance. I was directed to a room on the third floor; it was a conference room with seating for upwards of 100 hundred people. I went over to several girls and introduced myself. There was one Spanish girl and several French girls.
As 2.30pm approached a few more arrived, I was surprised that there were only a couple of guys and about 15 girls. A lady in her 40’s called us to order and started by giving us a brief summary of the company, its structure, the different products, etc. She then called out names and we were split into different groups that would be allocated to various departments within the office. My group was only girls; there were 5 of us, the Spanish girl, Maria, and the rest were French, Helene, Claudie, and Francoise. We were allocated to the car insurance department.
Shortly, a girl in her early 20’s arrived to escort us to the car insurance department. We were greeted by the boss, M Roubin and his deputy Mme Sylvie. They were probably both in their late 40’s. The girl who escorted us introduced herself as Martine, M Roubin’s secretary. She said that we should approach her for any matters and she would either deal with it or arrange a meeting with the boss or his deputy.
We were further split between new policies, renewals, claims and special circumstances. I was allocated to new policies with Francoise. There were 10 staff and one supervisor, all female. The supervisor was called Marie-Claude and was probably only a few years older than me.
Marie-Claude then spent the next couple of days going through the conditions and the various options available, all of which reflected on the amount of the premium. We were expected to promote a series of additional options ranging from broken windows to breakdown services.
For the first week I sat at the desk of one of the staff, Simone. She had been working there for a couple of years and showed me the ropes when clients phoned. She had a check sheet that she followed so as to mention all the basic questions and promote the options. The work was far from interesting, in fact downright boring, but at least I was able to speak French all day and some of the staff were friendly. Lunch was taken in the canteen and I and Francoise were invited to join some of the other girls at their table.
In the second week I was given my own desk next to Simone’s. She kept an eye on me and answered any questions I had. I was a little worried at not going through all the details and ending up either undercharging or overcharging clients.
After a couple of weeks I had worked a little late. I had got behind with the paperwork. We normally finished work at 5pm and it was about 5.15. On walking down the corridor towards the lifts, I heard strange sounds coming from M Roubin’s office. I stood still for a moment and listened; it sounded like someone was having their bottom spanked.
I went further down the corridor and hid in the entrance to the emergency stairs. I did not have long to wait; one of the girls in the car section, Therese, came out of his office, she looked flustered and was rubbing her bottom through her skirt. I waited till she had gone into the toilets and took the lift down to the entrance to the building.
At the end of the first week, Francoise suggested that one of her flatmates was leaving and that there was a room available at a very reasonable rent. I readily took up the offer. She suggested that I should come round to the flat in the early afternoon with my things. She gave me the address and directions.
On the Saturday afternoon I gave notice at the hostel and made my way to Francoise’s flat. It was a short bus ride from the centre of town and only took about 15 minutes. I checked and found that during the rush hours the busses ran every 15 minutes; outside the busy times and at weekends they ran every 30 minutes. Her flat was in a large house in what I assumed had been a very fashionable area but judging by the rather sad aspect of some of the properties, had seriously declined in desirability in recent years.
I rang the doorbell and it was soon answered by a large lady in her 50’s or 60’s. She asked if I was Wendy from the insurance company, on replying yes she introduced herself as Mme Poo, she briefly explained that she was polish and as nobody could pronounce her name she had become Mme Poo, a rather unfortunate nickname I thought. At that Francoise came running down the stairs opposite the front door and greeted me with a kiss on each cheek, a custom I was getting used to when French people meet each other. Mme Poo explained that Francoise would show me my room and that I should pay a week’s rent in advance once I had seen the room.
We went upstairs and Francoise helped me with my bag. We first went into a lounge with a kitchenette off to one side. She then showed me what would be my room; it was small but far larger than the one in the hostel. She explained that there were four rooms on the first floor and a further four on the second floor with an identical layout. She then showed me the bathroom; the bath was tiny but there was a shower attachment over it. She mentioned that Mme Poo lived on the ground floor.
We then returned to the lounge area and she explained that all 8 tenants were girls, some students and others working in the city. She said that she would introduce me to them later. She then set about explaining the rules laid down by Mme Poo. Mme Poo had to be advised if anyone would be home later than 11.00pm or if they were planning to stay away overnight. Any visitors had to be informed to Mme Poo and no visitors could stay after 11.00pm without her express approval; she was apparently very insistent on this as far as boys were concerned.
She then asked a very strange question. “Do you get spanked if you are naughty?”
I did not quite know how to reply but mentioned that as a kid my parents had spanked me and my brother, but that I had not been spanked in years.
She paused for a moment and then continued: “Things may be quite different here in France; kids are regularly spanked by their parents and for older children they receive the martinet.” At seeing the blank look on my face she explained: “It’s like a small whip with a handle and up to about twenty leather tails about 20cms long. Mme Poo uses one on us if we break her rules. It hurts but you will get used to it.”
This brought back memories of seeing Therese coming out of M Roubin’s office. “Do you get spanked in the office?” I enquired.
Her reply shocked me. “Yes, by either M Roubin or Mme Sylvie.”
I enquired what sort of things would result in the spanking.
She replied: “Being late in the morning, taking too long at lunchtime, making errors with the work, leaving one’s desk in a mess, being reported by clients, etc.”
I mentioned that I had heard noises in M Roubin’s office during the week and had seen Therese coming out rubbing her bottom.
What had I let myself in for? Nobody back at university had mentioned spanking and I had never heard of a martinet. Could I back out now and sneak back to the UK? I had signed all the papers except for the rented room and was not expected back for nearly three months. How could I explain my return to my parents and lecturers at university? On the other hand, Francoise had been friendly as had most of the other girls in the office. I would just have to be careful and, if I did get spanked, I would just have to grin and bear it.
Francoise also explained that Mme Poo expected us to help with some housework at weekends in exchange for the relatively low rent. She said that I would be allocated some tasks and we could swap tasks as long as we informed Mme Poo in advance.
She then took me downstairs and knocked on one of the doors off the hallway. I heard Mme Poo bellow: “Entrez.” We went in and she invited us to sit together on a large sofa, she sat opposite. The room was large, furnished in an old fashioned way and every space was taken up with memorabilia. There was a large window giving onto a garden which looked reasonably well tended.
She asked whether I was happy with the room and the arrangements to which I replied that I was. She then asked whether I liked gardening, I explained that I had helped my Father in the garden and although I was certainly no expert, I had a good idea what to do.
“Parfait,” she replied. “You will be allocated 4 hours of work in the garden per week.” I then paid the rent and she gave me a receipt.
Mme Poo closed our discussion by advising me that by abiding with her rules we would just get on fine; break her rules and there would be consequences.
Francoise suggested that we go to the nearby university refectory where we would likely see some of her friends and where you could get a good meal at reasonable cost.
I settled in to the routine of the house and even at work. Despite it being tediously boring we were at least kept busy. I met the other flatmates, it was a little like two separate worlds, the second floor kept themselves to themselves whereas Beatrice and Lydia were great fun.
It was the second weekend that I was brought back to reality. Beatrice and Lydia had been out in the city on Saturday evening, they had advised Mme Poo that they would be back by midnight. At breakfast the following morning the story of the previous evening came out. They had had a fantastic evening and had only arrived back at 1.30am. Mme Poo had apparently been furious, as usual. The two of them had to see her that evening at 6.00pm.
Just before 6.00pm Beatrice and Lydia descended the stairs. It was a warm evening so the windows were open and we could hear Mme Poo’s voice. She was castigating the two girls, how could they have been so stupid, how could they wander around the streets at after midnight, she had almost telephoned the police to report them missing, what would their parents think? After a brief pause, spanking could be heard. It sounded quite terrifying, she was clearly laying into someone’s bottom. Another pause and another session. Another pause and the sound changed, I could only guess that she had hand spanked first and was now using the martinet. There were squeals and pleadings from both girls but by the continued sounds, these were to no avail.
Before too long Beatrice and Lydia came back upstairs; they went into the bathroom. Francoise and I busied ourselves setting out the table for dinner. Finally the two reappeared looking rather sheepish.
“God she gave you a hard belting,” said Francoise.
“We thought she was never going to stop,” replied Lydia.
Over dinner Francoise explained that I had not been spanked in years and had never seen a martinet. The other girls chatted away about times they had been punished, how some punishments had been very hard and how some had been very embarrassing when they were spanked in front of others. I learnt that spankings were usually on the bare bottom, at best over panties. Mme Poo always started with an over the knee hand spanking before she applied the martinet whilst bent over her dining table. Francoise confirmed my worst fears by mentioning that spankings in the office were also usually on the bare bottom and started with a hand spanking over the knee.
What had I let myself in for? This was getting worse. Not only getting whacked, possibly by a man, but on the bare bottom. I concluded that these French girls must be used to such spankings and not think anything about baring their bottoms for someone to spank, it was utterly astounding.
On the following Wednesday I woke as usual, had a shower, got dressed and went through for breakfast, Beatrice and Lydia were there but not Francoise. I went and knocked on her door, there was no reply so I went in; she was only just waking up.
“Come on Francoise, we have to get the bus in 15 minutes.”
She told me to go as usual, she would follow later. I had breakfast and got the bus as usual.
It was nearly 10.00am when Francoise came into the office. Marie-Claude called her over, Francoise made some feeble excuse for being late and it was pointed out that I had made it on time. About an hour later she had to go to M Roubin’s office. When we went for lunch she announced that she was to be spanked, she had been late before and it was likely that she would be spanked hard. She had to go to M Roubin’s office at 5.00pm. I agreed that I would wait in the reception area on the ground floor so we could take the bus home together.
I wished her luck as she left the office about 5 minutes early. At 5.00pm I went down in the lift and waited. It was nearly 5.30pm by the time she emerged from the lift, her eyes were red and she was walking stiffly. We travelled home together and rather than going into the lounge she asked me to come into her room.
Once inside she closed the door, removed her skirt, slipped down her panties and lay face down on the bed. Her bottom was bright red and covered in blotches. She handed me a pot of cream and asked me rub some into her bottom. It was strange sitting on the side of her bed and gently massaging her bottom. I noticed that she had eased her right arm under her body and was playing with herself. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded. I continued until I felt her body go tight. “Thank you sweetie,” she said, half sat and kissed me twice on each cheek.
I then went to our lounge and she followed after a few minutes. Beatrice and Lydia had prepared dinner. Again the talk was about Francoise’s spanking. Yes, M Roubin had told her to bare her bottom, yes he had hand spanked her and yes she had had the martinet.
The following weekend Mme Poo came out into the garden with me, she set me various tasks, weeding, cutting back some bushes and generally tidying up. I started but it soon came on to rain and so I sheltered in the shed where she kept the tools. As the rain did not let up I put the tools back in their place and locked the shed. I then went out shopping with Beatrice returning home at about 6.00pm. We had arranged to go to a dance at the university that evening. When we came in the door Mme Poo was waiting for us and came out of her lounge.
“So what happened with the gardening, why did you not do as I instructed, are you frightened by a little rain?”
I knew there was really no excuse and had a sneaking feeling that I might feel the martinet for the first time in my life. She asked whether I had intended to go out that evening to which I told her what we had planned. She said that she would not spoil the evening but that I could expect to be punished the follow evening and should come to see her at 6.00pm.
I could feel my stomach churning at the thought of the martinet. I would have this hanging over me for the next 24 hours. We had dinner and a couple of glasses of wine. By the time we reached the Union I had almost forgotten about the following evening. We met some guys and went to a club. Suffice it to say we broke the 11.00pm curfew by over an hour. Mme Poo was there to meet us. She said that we were all in trouble and should all come to see her the following evening. We were soon upstairs and getting ready for bed. I slept well, probably because of the wine I had drunk.
The following day we chatted about our appointment with Mme Poo. At least I would not be alone, but on the other hand they would witness her whacking my bottom. It was strange to think of being whacked and even more so with others present, I have to admit that I was slightly excited at the prospect and wondered whether Francoise would put cream on my bottom.
I spent most of the day in the garden and made considerable progress. At about 5.00pm I went inside, had a shower and then went into the lounge to wait. Lydia was already there.
“Don’t worry, it will hurt but will soon be over and you will feel better once it’s done.”
Francoise and Beatrice came in soon after and at just before 6.00pm we all trooped downstairs.
Francoise knocked on her lounge door. “Entrez,” rang out from inside. We filed in. She started by giving us a lecture about breaking the curfew rule. She then went on to talk about my decision to stop gardening in the rain. She then instructed us to fully undress below the waist. I slowly undid my skirt and let it fall to the floor, I stepped out of it, next were my panties, these I slid down my thighs and off over my feet. I was standing naked below the waist; my t-shirt did not cover more than the lower part of my stomach. I glanced round, at least Beatrice had on a blouse that covered most of her private area, the rest of us were very exposed.
She called Lydia over who bent over her lap with some difficulty. We were standing to the left and had a full view of her bare bottom. She kept her legs tight together. Mme Poo started spanking her with her hand, she was an expert, each blow resounded round the room and clearly Lydia was suffering. Her bottom quickly reddened, there were grunts as each blow landed. Her legs were no longer tightly together and were flailing under the assault. She stopped and called Beatrice over. Beatrice was similarly draped over her lap and her bottom was assaulted. Next was Francoise. Her bottom still showed the bruises of the spanking she had received the previous Wednesday and Mme Poo remarked on this. It did not cause her to go easy and she spanked Francoise as hard as the others.
I knew my turn was close, Francoise was suffering and I knew I would suffer. I knew I would display my intimate areas as the others had done, the shame. God, why did I come to France. Mme Poo called me over and I struggled to lie on her lap, it was difficult getting down and flat across her knees. Finally I was settled and Mme Poo started to assault my bare bottom, it was worse than I remembered from the spankings I had received from my Mother. It hurt like hell and I am sure she spanked me harder and longer than she had done the others.
Finally her grip was released and she told me to stand with the others. Lydia was first again, she went over to the table and bent over gripping the far side, her legs were draped behind her and were straight out. She was slim and her sex lips were clearly visible. Mme Poo picked up the martinet, it was as described, there was a wooden handle and strands of leather strips about 20cms long. Mme Poo lined herself up and started to attack the bare bottom exposed in front of her. She was putting all her energy into each stroke and the already red bottom soon showed blotches. Lydia was not screaming but rather grunting, she was clearly in distress as the leather thongs cut into her bottom.
Beatrice was next and reacted in a similar way to Lydia, I could hear her sobbing. Next was Francoise. She let out a squeal at the first stroke and continued squealing. Her bottom was not just red but there were blotches and darker bruising from the previous spanking. Her legs were not still and criss-crossed giving a full view of her whole intimate area.
Finally it was my turn, like the others I draped myself across the table. I tried to keep my legs tightly together. Mme Poo started, the whip might have been small but it gave a frightening sting. I was soon crying and my whole bottom felt on fire, god, I can’t take any more but she continued. My bottom became numb and the strokes did not seem to deliver the same pain. All of a sudden she stopped. With difficulty I returned to my place with the others. She told us to dress and go upstairs. We all gingerly put on our panties being careful not to scrape the afflicted area. Once dressed we filed out and went upstairs.
On reaching the first floor landing, Francoise said: “Cream anyone?”
To my surprise Beatrice and Lydia both giggled and said: “Mais oui, bien sur.”
Francoise led the way and we filed into her room. There was a brief discussion about who would go first, the others decided that as I had had the hardest spanking I should go first. Despite having bared my bottom in front of the three of them only a few minutes before I was reluctant to do so again, they teased me about being a prudish English girl. My skirt was soon round my ankles and was followed by my panties. I unhooked them and lay face down on the bed.
I had not expected it but all three sat on the side of the bed and I could feel a multitude of fingers massaging my bottom. I closed my eyes and my hand slipped under me, I was in heaven. The resultant orgasm was long and deep like never before. Lydia was next follow by Francoise and Beatrice. It was only when Beatrice came that I realised we were all naked from the waist down. My inhibitions had vanished and I was now baptised as a real French girl.
There were regular visits to Mme Poo, usually for breaking the curfew. My bottom was regularly red and bruised.
Life in the office continued to be as boring as ever. Several girls had to visit M Roubin or Mme Sylvie including Francoise for being rude to a client over the phone. He had apparently complained and she had been reported by Marie-Claude who had overheard the conversation. Another bottom massage followed that session with M Roubin.
I was nearing the end of my time in France. The week before I was due to leave all hell broke out in the office. Martine, the secretary, came into our section and said that I should go to see M Roubin with Marie-Claude. From the looks of the other girls I knew that this spelt trouble.
I followed Martine and Marie-Claude brought up the rear. We entered M Roubin’s office. Mme Sylvie was sitting at a small conference table with a guy that I had never seen. M Roubin introduced the guy, M Dupont, as one of our major clients who insured a whole fleet of vehicles with the company. Apparently he had called to insure his wife’s new car and had been misquoted by me by several hundred francs. On mentioning that the premium quoted was too high I had replied that it was correct, he had become angry which resulted in my cutting the call. On the basis that the client, and particularly a good client, is always right I had no defence whatsoever.
M Dupont was still angry and waited for M Roubin to decide on my fate. I knew already what my fate was and was preparing myself for a 5.00pm visit. I was shocked when after being advised by M Roubin that I would be spanked, M Dupont insisted on seeing the punishment carried out. M Roubin looked confused for a moment but soon came to the conclusion that he could not refuse the client’s request.
He mentioned that normally punishments were carried out at 5.00pm when most of the staff had left for the day, could M Dupont return then? M Dupont explained that he had a meeting out of town at that time and could not return at 5.00pm. He insisted that “the silly little girl” be punished immediately.
It was a very hot day and I had put on a loose fitting flowery dress that morning with only bra and panties underneath. M Roubin turned to face me and told me to take off the dress and my panties. I pleaded with him to let me keep my dress on, he glared at me and shouted that what was good for a naughty French girl was equally good for an English girl. If I did not comply he would ask Mme Sylvie and Marie-Claude to undress me forcefully. The tears started.
With no choice, I undid the belt of the dress and lifted it off over my head. I delayed slightly to pull my panties down and received another reprimand from M Roubin, I sighed and eased my panties down. Here I was standing only wearing my bra in front of two men and two females. I tried to cover my intimate area as best I could. I looked briefly at M Dupont in the hope that he might stop this theatre, the look on his face was my answer, he was leering and thoroughly enjoying the sight of my almost naked young body.
M Roubin pulled a chair into the area in front of his desk and asked the others to stand by the wall. M Roubin sat and motioned me towards him. He grabbed one of my wrists and pulled me rather roughly over his lap. He let me settle and I felt his hand on my left bottom cheek. With an “allons-y” he started, he alternated cheeks and his hand felt hard and large, this was not to be a spanking like from Mme Poo. Each whack produced a horrible sound that reverberated round the office, I grunted with each one and the tears were flowing down my face.
My bottom was becoming numb, his efforts were less painful than when he started. He must have realised this and stopped. He helped me to my feet and my hands went straight to my bottom, it felt like jelly.
M Roubin asked the others to change position and told me to bend over the table, hold on to the far side and keep my legs straight. I slowly obliged. He took the martinet out of his desk drawer and came over to stand to my left. He started slowly and not too hard, softer than Mme Poo. That did not last long, he soon got into full swing and was clearly straining himself with making every whack count, probably to impress M Dupont. I soon lost count. After 12 whacks my mind went blank and as before my bottom became numb, all I could think of was the massaging that I hoped Francoise would give me when we got home.
I did not realise that he had stopped until he put his hand on my shoulder and told me to stand and get dressed. My legs were wobbly and I needed the table for support. Marie-Claude handed me my dress and had to help me slip my arms though the sleeves and then on over my head. With a little help it fell back into place and finally cover my nudity. She passed me my panties but I decided to clutch them in my hand rather than put them on.
I then had to apologise to M Dupont and the others for my bad behaviour and stupidity. Marie-Claude suggested that I should be released for the rest of the day and that Francoise should accompany me home. For some reason I turned to M Roubin and said: “Merci, monsieur,” and exited with Marie-Claude in tow.
On the bus home Francoise was silent and just stood with her arm round my shoulders. When we got off the bus to walk the few yards back home she smiled and said: “Le paradis n’est pas loin.” (paradise is not far away)