FLEUR by Helier (F/ffff, FF/F) WARNING This story contains scenes which are clear descriptions of sexual activity and spanking. Personally I don't find them at all offensive but I'm willing to believe that some people might. Could I therefore recommend that this story is only read by adults who are entirely convinced that they can read such material with equanimity. FLEUR by Helier Part 1 The woman and her young friend wandered blissfully, hand in hand, over the woodland path. They had got there separately. Claire Allyson had come from the village on her bicycle - she chose not to live at the school - and Fleur on foot, over the playing fields and through the five-barred gate. They met at Hermit's Well as they always did. The well was in a clearing just off the overgrown path - an ancient dry-stone wall, broken down and covered in moss, encircling a sullen pool of dark water. Fleur threw herself into Claire's arms and they held each other and kissed for sometime before setting off on their walk. Few people knew this area. It lay almost undisturbed deep in the forest. The paths were unmapped and hardly used at all used since before the war. For Fleur and the teacher she loved so passionately it was the one place they could feel safe. Fleur chatted brightly as they walked. She was eighteen, poised and graceful with high cheekbones and honey blond hair. When she smiled there was a look in her eyes that gave an impression of deep inner contentment about her. Today she wore a white cotton dress. It was one she knew Claire loved so she only wore it at times when she knew they would be alone together. The sunlight filtering through the trees warmed the air, heightening the scents of wood and of the dried leaves and flowers that covered their path. Intent on listening to Fleur and to the crunching leaves under her feet, Claire said little. As they walked, she left the world behind and all her mind and body opened to Fleur. Claire Allyson was twenty-eight years old and had been Fleur's english teacher two years before when Fleur was in fourth form. They had delighted in each other's company almost immediately. Claire loved poetry and longed to share this with as many of the girls as possible. At lunchtime she would discuss poems with any of them that wanted to join in. Fleur was the only one who came constantly and, when the novelty wore off for the others, often came on her own. At first Claire had enjoyed the girl's company and her enthusiasm and had thought no more about her than about any of the rest. Slowly though she began to find the haunting beauty of Fleur's eyes creeping into her mind and even into her dreams. Initially she was so horrified by her feelings that she forced herself to be quite distant with the girl. It was almost a relief when the end of the year came and she found she would not be teaching her the following year. She was sure she would be able to refocus herself and concentrate on her work but almost as soon as the term began she found herself searching for Fleur everywhere. Worse still she was compelled to admit to herself that Fleur was searching for her. Perhaps the first walk in the forest was a genuine attempt to solve the problem. Claire reasoned that if she took the time to talk to this girl she would again come to see her as just another teenager growing up and she would quickly regain her perspective. They met and walked. They walked for miles, oblivious to everything, talking so intensely that there came a point where they realised they were completely lost. They stood breathing heavily and looking around for some clue of which way to go. The air was silent and filled with perfume. After a few moments Claire became aware of the young girl staring at her. Suddenly she realised that they were completely alone in the most beautiful place she had ever seen. No-one could see them. No-one even knew they were there. It crossed her mind that perhaps Fleur was scared of being lost. Uncertainly she held out her arms to the girl. "Don't be afraid," she murmured, unsure herself of what she meant by it. For a moment Fleur gazed at her, uncomprehending, then impulsively she rushed across the grassy floor and pressed herself into her teacher's arms. Their bodies melted together. It was a huge moment for both of them and then just as Claire wanted to say something reassuring about finding their way out she found herself kissing Fleur on the lips. Once they had started they couldn't stop. It was like some delirium that took hold of them both and destroyed their reason or as though some wildness of the forest had entered their souls and made them mad. Suddenly they were laughing and running through the trees. Coincidentally, the way they were running was the right way. For the first time they came together to the Hermit's Well and from there they could find their way back. From that time they met each week at the well and, though they tried never to let it go further than that first time, within months nature and the magic of the forest had seduced them and they were lovers in all the most delightful senses of the word. Even then though it was months more before they discovered in each other the hidden fantasies that made their relationship so complete; and that discovery was made, not deep in the forest, but out in front of the headmistress and a class of twenty girls. Fleur had been at St Anna's for three years. She didn't like boarding but her parents were usually on the other side of the world so there wasn't much choice. Generally both the teachers and the other girls liked her a lot although she had no really intimate friendships. The one person who had never liked her was Miss Arkwright, the headmistress. It was true that Miss Arkwright had picked on her right from the start which, for a girl boarding for the first time, was distressing. At first she thought she must be doing something wrong and she tried desperately to change her behaviour to pacify Miss Arkwright who terrified her. Miss Arkwright was in her late fifties. She was small and square with very dark eyes. She was much given to poking girls in the chest with her pointer or gripping them by the ear. At times she dragged girls up in front of the whole school to tell them off at assembly. They were given corporal punishment too but this was sporadic and very unpredictable. After a few months Fleur gave up on Miss Arkwright. She knew that nothing she could do would improve things. It seemed as though the very qualities of kindness and friendliness that endeared her to everybody else were the root of the problem with Miss Arkwright. When Fleur, out of naivete and a remnant of childishness, began to defy the headmistress it only served to confirm in the old woman's mind what she thought had been the truth about Fleur from the beginning. 'Two-faced', she called her. Miss Arkwright still taught a couple of classes, including one that Fleur was in. Claire was often afraid that this situation would lead to trouble for Fleur. One day Claire was passing through the corridor when Miss Arkwright saw her and told one of the girls to ask her to come in. There was a tense excited atmosphere in the classroom when she entered. Miss Arkwright's face was flushed and plainly there had just been an incident of some sort. "Miss Allyson. Thank you very much for giving us your time. There seems to be a problem with certain girls in this class. I have three girls who have forgotten to bring in their homework and one girl who not only forgets to bring her homework but when I remonstrate with her on the matter she laughs in my face. Do you feel that it is right, Miss Allyson, that a girl should behave in this fashion?" "No ... no, I don't, Miss Arkwright." Claire felt awful being put in this position. Her relationship with the girls was friendly and personal but there was no way she could publicly condone rudeness and plainly Miss Arkwright was not in a mood for a discussion on the subject. "These girls should be punished and punished properly. Don't you agree, Miss Allyson?" "There should certainly be a consequence, yes." "The strap, Miss Allyson, is the only proper consequence." She dropped her voice and spoke confidentially to Claire. "Would you do it for me? You've done it before, haven't you?" "Yes, but ..." "My hands are too arthritic. I can't hold the strap. I'll look such a fool if I drop it." Flustered Claire replied: "Oh. Of course, if you think it's necessary to ... " "So." Miss Arkwright glared triumphantly around the classroom. "Luckily we have someone younger and stronger than I to complete the task. Ann. Meryl. Gina. Out here." There was a gasp around the classroom as the three girls got to their feet and Miss Arkwright took her strap from the desk. Claire also felt her heart jump - she was not at all comfortable with this. She had caned girls in her previous school when she was only just qualified, but the feeling it gave her left her confused and frightened. After a while she stopped and decided never to give corporal punishments again. Even caning girls on their hands had given her guilty erotic thoughts and when once she had to cane two girls over their knickers, it took days to stop the details of it playing over and over again in her fantasies. She really had meant never to do it again but at this moment she realised she was not being given a choice. She knew that Fleur was in the class though she had not yet dared to look in her direction. Would her young lover know how the idea of spanking these three girls was turning her on? Suddenly it occurred to her how erotic it was that Fleur would be watching her do this. She hoped the girl would realise that she had been given no choice and would not think badly of her. Reluctantly the three made their way to the front of the class. When she saw who they were Claire at least had the compensation of knowing that the first two thoroughly deserved all they were going to get. Ann and Meryl were a twosome, disruptive in class and bitchy to the other girls. They were also sneaky and usually got away with a lot. Poor Gina had just got caught up in this. She was a sweet girl. She would certainly never have been punished like this before and Claire could see the shame in her eyes as she looked at the strap and realised what was going to happen to her. "Four good strokes each, I think, Miss Allyson. On the backs of their legs. That should help them remember." "Oh" Gina couldn't help a little cry of dismay and Claire sympathised with her. On the other hand the thought of strapping this innocent thing and making her cry was making her heart race. She felt wicked but she couldn't help the pleasure it gave her. She had to do it whatever she felt - she had no choice. "Turn to the blackboard - and skirts up, please, girls," she said, relieved that she managed to keep her voice steady. They did as they were told, lifting their navy pleated skirts until their legs were bare from their knee-length white socks nearly to the tops of their thighs. Miss Arkwright, however, was not satisfied. "Higher, girls. Higher." Ann and Meryl immediately obeyed her but Gina, mortally ashamed, was not quick enough for her headmistress. "Gina!" she snapped. "You will do as you are told or you will be punished bending down with your skirt up over your back. D'you hear?" Gina began to sob. She bowed her head and raised her skirt until the lower part of her knickers was uncovered like Ann and Meryl's. They were obviously not her best knickers. They were a little ragged at the seams and had a small hole in the seat. She cried quietly in her humiliation. "Begin with the other two, please, Miss Allyson." Claire took the strap from Miss Arkwright. She placed the cool leather against Meryl's thighs and felt the girl shift uncomfortably in anticipation. For Claire it was pure joy. She admitted it to herself now. She drew back the strap and, after a few seconds wait, she whacked Meryl across the tops of her thighs. "Ow! Oh, Miss!" She gave her a second stroke in the same spot. "Oh! No. Please, Miss!" The girl's pleas only increased Claire's pleasure and pleasure always slowed her down. She swung the strap in a wide leisurely arc, putting her whole body into the stinging delivery. After another two strokes she left Meryl, in spite of her tough image, in tears with four thick red stripes across her legs. She moved on to the next girl. Meryl's tears had not been lost on Ann. She couldn't believe her friend was really crying with the pain of just four strokes. As Claire lined the strap up behind her she tightened her bottom and began shaking her legs in a sort of nervy dance. Claire found it irresistible to watch. She tickled her a little with the cold leather and made her jump, then left her in suspense while she slowly drew back the strap. Crack! The first stroke made a sound like a thunderclap on Ann's generous thighs. Shocked, the girl leapt in the air and then gave a series of small jumps. "Oh! Ah! Oh!" she gasped then lapsed into hasty deep breaths to try to calm herself. No sooner was she still than the second snapped across her thighs. She wailed aloud, bending her legs and half-crouching with her hands clamped to her burning legs. "Ooooh" she moaned then quickly stood up and lifted her skirt again, knowing that anything else would get her in worse trouble. For her third Claire gave it to her hard across the very tops of her thighs even catching a little of her bottom cheeks that were peeking out under her panties. The girl went completely rigid, bursting into tears and clenching her hands tight. Claire knew that she would stay like that now so she finished her off quickly with a stroke just above her knees that would be visible to eveyone as she walked home. Claire was hungry now. The sight of all this writhing girl-flesh reddening under her strap was arousing her like nothing she could remember. She kept telling herself to concentrate, not to become reckless, but it was like a drug to her. She wanted more. Gina was trembling all over her body and the crying of the other two girls was clearly audible. She knew she should be kinder to Gina but it would be hard. Gina had let her skirt droop. "Lift it up, Gina. There's a good girl." "Sorry, Miss," Gina said tearfully. After the extravagant reactions of the other two, spanking Gina was almost lyrical. She had never been strapped before but somehow she had the ability to bear it humbly. She cried as soon as she felt the strap touch her and strangely the only difference between that and when Claire actually strapped her was that she cried louder. Her little body shook pitifully all the way through her punishment but somehow she seemed to know what to expect and scarcely moved. At the end when she'd had her fourth stroke she put her hands on her stinging thighs and cried so unhappily that Claire wanted to hug her but she felt she shouldn't. In all Claire was glad now that it was over. She felt exhausted by the excitement and wanted to go somewhere quiet to think about it all and maybe to ... "And now," said Miss Arkwright with a grand flourish. "Let's hear from our laughing girl." Claire turned with a shock. Of course, there was also the one who had laughed at her. Given what the old witch had just had her do to the other three what could she possibly have in mind for this one. And who ...? This question was quickly answered. From a desk two thirds of the way back Fleur rose unsteadily to her feet. "Come along, girl. Let's see how funny it is now." Claire's mind was whirling like a spin dryer. She felt weak and all the arousal seemed to pool in her stomach and turn to nerves. She couldn't strap Fleur. She couldn't. It would be unspeakable. She thought of pleading illness and running away but it would look so suspicious. She couldn't take that risk. If they were discovered it would be so awful for Fleur. Indecision took over and it was too late. Fleur was already approaching the front, her eyes fixed on Claire. Claire dared herself to meet her gaze and when she did she was astonished at what she saw there. In Fleur's sparkling eyes was that tiny excited smile she always gave Claire in their quietest moments when the forest was at its most perfect, usually after they had made love for hours. She knew what was going to happen to her. She knew that it was inevitable. She was telling Claire just to do what she had to and not to panic. She was also telling Claire something more but Claire couldn't believe what she saw there. "Now, girl, you will have four strokes for forgetting and another four for your rudeness. Funny? Is that funny, eh?" Fleur was facing the class. She did not look at the headmistress. "No answer. Well, we'll ask you again later. Skirt!" Fleur turned, as the other girls had, to face the blackboard. She found herself face to face with Claire who stood, quite pale, clutching the strap. "Oh, turn to the class, Fleur," Miss Arkwright sneered. "It will be interesting for the others to see how amusing you're finding this experience." At this there was a buzz around the class and Miss Arkwright turned and barked at them all to quieten down. Fleur took full advantage of the distraction. She looked deep into Claire's eyes and whispered to her. "Don't .. be .. afraid." She saw instantly the blush of recognition on Claire's cheeks then lifting her skirts high she swallowed deeply and turned back to face the class. Suddenly Claire knew what she had to do. She must make Fleur's punishment as much or more than the others. Fleur knew perfectly that it was her childish behaviour that had got them into this situation and now to pacify Miss Arkwright and avoid suspicion falling on them she was asking Claire to punish her. Liberated by this knowledge Claire was alive with desire. The thought of strapping and humiliating Fleur in front of the other girls with her own acquiescence was so intoxicating that for a moment she felt giddy with it. She steadied herself. "Skirt higher, Fleur," she said. "If Gina can do it so can you." She knew that would sting and would tell Fleur that she had understood and would not compromise. They were on display after all. Fleur was certainly on display. She held the back of her skirt so tightly to her waist that even from the front the girls got a view of the blue flowers on her white cotton panties. Claire had never known Fleur to cry. She had never even thought of it but suddenly it seemed like the most important thing in the world. She lifted the strap and saw a cruel smile pass over Miss Arkwright's face. Fleur was right - it would have to be good to soothe those injured feelings. She whacked Fleur's legs wickedly, making her jump and gasp a little. It wasn't a big reaction which surprised Claire. She made the second more fierce. Fleur's legs began to shake and from the way her shoulders were curving Claire guessed she would crumble soon. "Legs apart, Fleur," she said sternly. Fleur obeyed instinctively and immediately Claire gave her a third stroke. This one impacted at the top of her left leg but it curled round so that the tip bit viciously into the girl's soft inner thigh. "Ow!" she panted. "Ow ... Miss ..." But Claire wasn't listening. Without hesitation she did precisely the same thing a second time. A look of terror crossed Fleur's face. Her mouth was wide open and her face contorted but no sound came out. She wanted to scream but couldn't. Instead she dropped her skirt and her hands flew to the front where, half-crouching, she reached between her legs to clutch the raging flesh of her inner thigh. "Funny, eh! Eh?" Miss Arkwright's over-excited voice echoed nasally through the class. "Laugh then, Fleur. Come along. Let's see you laugh at that." Fleur glanced helplessly at her and actually seemed to try to laugh but the pain and the humiliation were too much. Her face crumpled and she burst into long wailing sobs. "Not quite so cocky now, are you? Well, Fleur, it serves you right. This is entirely your own fault and you will suffer for it. Now, take down your underwear." Fleur and the whole class gasped. "For your impertinence you will have four strokes on your bare bottom." "But, Miss, I can't ... " whined Fleur. "Silence!" thundered Miss Arkwright. "Fleur, you will take your knickers down right now or Miss Allyson will do it for you. I won't be disobeyed." Crying loudly Fleur reached up under her skirt and very slowly began peeling down her panties. She stopped when the blue flowers were just visible beneath her crumpled skirt and glanced fearfully at Miss Arkwright. "Right down, girl!" barked the headmistress and in floods of tears the chastened girl obeyed her. For a moment she stood there, crying and unsure, with her panties pooled around her feet. "Gather your skirt and bend forward, please, Fleur," said Claire. She could sense that her voice was filled with arousal but she didn't care. Her sex was throbbing like a motorcycle and her own panties were soaked. She was so overstimulated she wanted to cry and she was terrified that she would lose control altogether and just climax right there in front of everybody. Still sobbing Fleur lifted her skirt up around her waist. She held it bunched on the front of her thighs while she pushed out her trembling bottom for Claire to strap. Her buttocks were round and smooth and quite pale by comparison to her blotchy reddened thighs and Claire, knowing what the four strokes would do to her, was almost fainting with desire. She lifted the strap, her eyes mesmerised by the apprehension in Claire's tense body, then with a wide sensual swing of her whole torso she laid a brilliant scarlet stripe across the sweet soft flesh of Fleur's backside. Every girl in the class was breathlessly watching Fleur and no-one was disappointed. Her face contorted instantly with the stinging pain and she began to wail with dismay and rock up and down like a little girl. Another followed with Fleur squealing and whining pitifully. She sounded broken and after the third she bent her knees, half-crouched down and put her hand across her burning bottom. Claire stepped back to give her a moments respite and to her amazement noticed that in fact unseen by the class or Miss Arkwright Fleur was pressing and fondling the mound of her sex. It shocked her - not just because she was watching a girl sneakily masturbating in front of an entire class of her peers - although that was extraordinary - but rather because it clearly suggested that Fleur was as aroused by her humiliation and punishment as Claire was. Claire left her young lover a few moments to enjoy what she was doing then ordered her to take away her hand. Fleur quickly buried her damp fingers in her skirt and straightened her legs. Claire saw with a quickening of her heart how a tiny trail of moisture streaked down Fleurs scarlet inside thigh. She made the last stroke especially cruel across the seat of the girl's bottom then ignoring her desperate cries returned the strap to Miss Arkwright and left the room. As part of her punishment Fleur was then sent to the detention room to think about her behaviour and was not permitted to leave the school for the rest of the week. The following Sunday was the first chance they had had to be together and they both arrived early, anxious that the other might not come. They embraced as usual and chatted over everything except what had happened. Somewhere deep in the wood they stopped to lie down. They made love slowly and beautifully and then stayed for a while cuddled in each other's arms. Claire drifted off to sleep and when she awoke Fleur was sitting watching her. In her lap lay Miss Arkwright's strap. "Where did you get that from?" asked Claire, startled. "From her desk. I borrowed it." "You crazy thing. She could notice it's gone." "Not on Sunday afternoon ... " She smiled meaningfully and they both giggled. Miss Arkwright always disappeared on Sunday afternoons and the rumours about where she went were generally extremely lewd. "Why have you brought it?" Fleur blushed deeply and bit her upper lip. "Miss ... " It took Claire's breath away to hear Fleur call her 'Miss' here in the forest. "Yes," said Claire, mystified. "Miss ... will you do it to me again?" After this incident Fleur's punishment became a constant feature of their love- making and, the reasons they invented for it, an endless source of fantasy. This Sunday afternoon as they wandered along the forest path together Claire was remembering all they had shared and what the relationship had come to mean to her. She was also planning one of their favourite fantasies.