Story: Vacation

VACATION
by Tcheser

It began as a lovely summer day in the south of France for vacationing Marie Dumont. She rose early, as she always loved to have breakfast on her veranda overlooking the river and smell the fresh cool morning air. Afterward she decided on a swim in the river. She was an avid swimmer and that was one of the big reasons she had rented the summer cottage. It had few other amenities. It wasn't near town, it wasn't particularly luxurious and it ran off a somewhat temperamental well. It was remote though, and this allowed her to swim in the nude, a pastime most people only do when necessary, or drunk or in love. Marie however loved the freedom of it. She loved being almost one with the water as nothing separated her from it.

So gathering up her sun chair, a book and a little lunch she made her way to the shore. It wasn't far, but there was high grass all the way up to the shore almost and one had to weave through a path made by the cottage owner to reach it. Still, it was a small price to pay for near unlimited skinny-dipping, she thought as she crunched along the shell-lined path in her kicky summer sandals.

Finally reaching the dock she always made camp at, she stretched in the still, sweet, late-morning air. Then she set up her chair. She put her book and lunch next to them and prepared for her swim. Cautiously she looked about to make sure no one was around. She always did this on the off chance there was a fisherman or duck hunter. Seeing no one as usual she pulled her long sundress off, folded it carefully on a pylon and then stripped her nylon panties down her legs and added them to the pile. Nude, she approached the end of the dock. She took a couple of calming breaths and then did a very elegant dive into the cool waters.

The water was, as always, divine. She splashed around a bit before beginning her laps to the far bank. She had made forty the other day and thought she could beat that total. Soon she was back-stroking her way to and fro, blissfully unaware of anything but the water.

Around her twentieth lap she was returning to the dock doing the crawl. Coming up for breath at one moment she thought she saw someone on the dock. Startled she stopped and looked up. When she did though she saw no one there. Looking around she saw that she still appeared to be as alone as when she began her swim. She decided she must be seeing things and went back to swimming. It was strange though. For a second she could have sworn she saw a schoolgirl standing on the dock watching her.


Some time later she was returning to the dock again, pleased with herself. She had just done 41 laps and the return trip would make 42. She would have a hard time beating that tomorrow she smiled, but it would be fun as always to try. She climbed the ladder onto the dock and made her way to her chair. As she was getting the water out of her ears she noticed something was amiss with her little camp.

First off her book was open and the pages were blowing in the wind as if the wind was flipping through it. Next she noticed her lunch was nowhere to be seen. She suspected a wild animal right off but there was no sign of the Tupperware container or her juice bottle anywhere. She then turned to throw on her sundress so she could investigate some more and made another discovery. Her clothes were gone! Spinning about she searched the dock and the water for them. Had they blown away? It didn't appear that they had. They were just gone. At the far end of the dock behind a rock she did see something cloth-like flapping a bit in the wind though. Assuming those were her clothes and they had simply floated over a bit she walked over to them calmly. She was quite relieved as that sundress had been one of her favorites. Reaching the rock however she was startled to see that what she had taken for her dress was not. Behind the rock she found a dark bundle of clothing weighted down by yet another rock. Tossing off the rock she went through the clothes to see who they could belong to.

She was startled at what she found. What she held in her hands was a complete girl's school uniform! She hadn't been mistaken. There had been a schoolgirl here. What was worse than her possibly having seen Marie naked was the fact that it looked like the girl had stolen her clothes and left her own behind.

Aghast at the naughtiness of young women today Marie prepared to trudge back to the cottage to get another dress and maybe call and report this to the local girls' academy. She had only gone a few steps when she heard voices. Numerous voices and they sounded like they were coming closer. In fact it sounded like they were coming down the path through the grass. Flustered Marie knew she had to act. She couldn't let a bunch of strangers, possibly officials or police see her naked like this.

Thinking quickly, she did the only thing she could think of. She donned the discarded school uniform. Moving with blinding speed she did it in astonishing time. She threw on the white button down shirt, tossed the navy jumper over it, jumped into the thick navy cotton briefs, slipped on the white ankle socks and was buckled on the shiny school shoes. It was going to be embarrassing to be found wearing the clothes of the schoolgirl who had stolen her clothes, but she figured modestly that it was better than being caught in the nude. Later it would make a great story to tell her friends at cocktail parties. She was just straightening her outfit when the unknown parties emerged from the high grass.

There were four of them. Three burly men in work clothes who looked like maintenance men or groundskeepers and a tall middle aged woman in a traveling coat and boots. The older woman looked very stern and even carried a cane although she didn't seem to need it for walking.

"Is that Marie?" she heard one of the men ask the woman in French.

"Yes, I am Marie," she answered in the best French she could muster. The older woman just waved her to be silent and she and the man spoke rapidly in a manner Marie couldn't interpret. Her French was okay, but not fluent and when people didn't make an effort to be understood by foreigners like her she was lost.

Finally they stopped and turned back to Marie. Then the stern lady addressed her. Her voice was cold and haughty. "Alright then, you've had your fun, Marie. Come along peacefully and we won't make your punishment any worse then it already is."

Marie thought she understood what the lady was saying, but it didn't make any sense. Who were these people and what did they want from her she wondered. She tried to clear up the confusion as politely as she could. "Pardon me, Madam, but who are you and what is this all about. I have just had a very interesting morning and-"

"Miss, you are seriously trying my patience," the lady replied quickly and it was clear she was getting angry. She stalked over to where Marie still stood on the edge of the dock. "Not waiting at the rail station for us as instructed, running away, forcing us to comb the countryside looking for, now acting like you don't know what is going on..." she listed angrily as she approached Marie. "Now you're coming with us and that's that," she concluded as she grabbed Marie by the elbow with a vice like grip.

"What?... No... You don't understand... this is some kind of mix up... I'm not who you think I am," Marie began to complain and try to explain as the woman started to pull on her to lead her away. The older woman was having none of it and when she began to have trouble moving Marie from where she decided to make her stand she called for the men to help her.

Now being fairly athletic Marie could put a pretty good fight against a woman like the teacher here. Against two burly workmen, however, she was helpless. They gently but firmly grabbed her with their broad calloused hands and secured her between the two of them. One stood on either side and held her by her upper arms. No matter how she twisted or kicked or flailed she couldn't get away.

That done, the teacher began her way back up the trail through the grass. The two men holding Marie followed. She tried to resist but it was futile. She didn't think she slowed them down one bit. The last man followed in the rear. As they passed by Marie's rented cottage she tried to make them see the truth. "Madam, please stop. That cottage there. That's my cottage. I rented it for the summer." The lady slowed a bit and looked at the cottage but didn't stop. "Please, Madam, if you would just stop and release me I could go inside and get my identification."

For some reason the woman did stop and turn around. "Okay, go get your identification, but Pierre will go with you," she told Marie. With that one of the men released Marie while the other walked with her to the cottage. It was only about twenty paces, but she was glad to be even that distance from the intimidating teacher. Soon though she would be inside her cottage, find her ID and the old bitty would have to leave her alone. She would probably even get her to apologize she mused.

When Marie reached the door she found to her chagrin that she had another problem. It was locked. It had one of those locks that locks automatically when you shut the door. It was a hassle way out here in the countryside and forced Marie to take a key with her whenever she went out. And now she recalled that the key had been in the pocket of her sundress. The sundress the schoolgirl must have stolen. Desperate, she started poking around the frame, under the mat and in the flowerbox. Maybe just maybe the owner hid a key there.

The older lady wasn't amused at this though. "Very amusing young lady. We've wasted enough time here and for that you have just added to your already considerable punishment."

Marie stomped her foot in frustration and tried again to escape from the clutches of Pierre but it was no good. He held her firmly if not easily. To solve this problem and hurry everything along he tossed Marie over his shoulder like a sack of fertilizer. Her head ended up over his back sending blood rushing to her head further disorienting her and he held her by her legs in front keeping her from kicking. Dimly she was aware that the motion had made her skirt fly up over her back and that her childish cotton knickers had to be on full display. Beaten she allowed them to carry her away from her vacation cottage to the street where their car was parked.

It was an old station wagon in surprisingly good repair. They bundled Marie in the back where she was sandwiched between Pierre and another man. Trapped she consoled herself that this could all most likely be straightened out when they arrived wherever they were going. As they drove though the lady whom Marie soon learned was named Margot Duson and was to be addressed as Mistress or Mistress Duson unrelentingly scolded Marie.

Marie hadn't done any of the things the Mistress accused her of but couldn't help but feel small and ashamed. Periodically she would turn around from where she sat in the passengers' seat and wag a finger at her. Other times she would reach out and grab Marie's hand and slap it painfully with her other hand. By the time they reached their destination Marie was teary eyed and both of her hands were red from the slaps.

Despite this she took notice of the tall stately gothic mansion she had been brought too. It was clear that it was a school now, though. It had a large sign pronouncing its name as St. Augustine's School for wayward girls. She didn't like the sound of that. She liked even less being pulled up the stairs into the building by Pierre. Once inside the foyer and the door shut Pierre released her.

The Mistress then dismissed the workmen who excused themselves to some other part of the huge building. The Mistress then made a phone call using the antique-looking rotary phone on the foyer table. Marie didn't quite know what was going on but saw an opportunity to escape when the Mistress's back was turned. Rushing to the door she tried to pull it open so she run off. She found though to her dismay that the door was locked. And it wasn't just latched or bolted. It was locked with a key and there was no key to be seen. The huge wooden door couldn't be opened and now Marie realized why the Mistress had felt comfortable enough to dismiss the men. She quickly jumped away from the door before the Mistress saw that she had tried to escape. Marie didn't want to make things any worse for herself after all.

Now it appeared Marie was in a real jam. She was trapped and at the mercy of the Mistress who believed Marie to be a naughty, back-talking, runway schoolgirl. Nothing she said would free her for nothing she said would be given much credit. The real Marie had already proven herself to be deceitful and not to be trusted. Worse still, she suddenly found she needed to use the restroom.

Finally Mistress Duson finished her phone call and turned around to deal again with her wayward little charge. Like a real schoolgirl Marie stood pigeon-toed before the Mistress and looked at her feet contritely. She didn't know why she acted like that. She should have stood her ground and returned the Mistress's steely gaze to show her she wasn't in fact dealing with a mischievous schoolgirl. The older woman was just so intimidating though and standing before her in the huge foyer of the impressive gothic school in nothing but an awkwardly fitting school uniform Marie felt very small and meek.

"I had hoped to tell your parents about your behavior so they could send you to a school more suited toward your wayward ways, but your parents have already begun their vacation and it will not be possible to reach them for the next three weeks," the Mistress explained. "I however spent several years teaching at such an institution though, so I believe I will be able to adequately dispense the proper discipline warranted in this case and your parents already signed all the proper corporal punishment forms. So I believe it's time you were punished for your naughty disrespectful behavior is it not, Marie?" Mistress Duson asked rhetorically.

"Yes, Mistress," Marie responded timidly as she realized she was at the mercy of the Mistress until the real Marie showed up or her parents returned from vacation in three weeks, the exact amount of time Marie had planned to be on her own enjoyable holiday.