BSQ Chapter 3 The French Exchange - part 3

[Ragnar0k]

Well, I didn't think Part 3 would be ready to go up quite as soon but, as I said earlier, this story is almost writing itself so I may as well capitalise on that for now!



All the characters and their names in the following story are fictional and over 18. I hope you enjoy reading the “Boarding School Queen” titfighting and sexfighting series. ? Ragnar0k

Previous chapters are available under my pen name here:

The HUGE list of female rivalry's erotic stories




Boarding School Queen chapter 3 – The French Exchange Part 3



The British Airways Boeing 727 banked to the right as it turned to make its final approach into Grenoble Airport, providing Mhairi with a perfect view of the snow-capped French Alps below. It was her first ever trip to France and she was feeling more excited than she had let on, either to Miss Turner or the girls who had come to see her off as they left in the taxi the previous morning.

Mhairi had decided not even to confide in her closest friend Susan about her little tryst with Miss Turner the other day. For one thing, she didn’t want any of the other girls getting wind that the teacher had got the better of her, thinking how that would tarnish her invincible reputation as the trib fighter who had summarily ended Helen Brodie’s reign as Cardugan’s undisputed sex-fight queen.

But there was a second, complicating factor that Mhairi still found difficult to reconcile in her confused mind. Even before they had locked up in sexual combat on top of Miss Turner’s desk, the student realised she had a crush on the gorgeous teacher: what she felt now however was closer to infatuation and, although she had never fallen in love before, she was starting to wonder if this was what it actually felt like.

There was one thing for sure: after the sexy redhead had ‘owned’ Mhairi's pussy so convincingly on top of that soaking wet desk blotter, the brunette had started to feel even more possessive about her teacher, and woe betide any other student who thought they could also steal their way into Amelia Turner's affections.



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Amelia had offered Mhairi her window seat shortly after the plane took off from Heathrow; it only seemed a small kindness but the student greatly appreciated it as this was only her third time in a plane and she delighted in looking out, noting how quickly the landscape changed during the ninety minute flight to the Alps.

Amelia found that they had both chatted easily enough on the journey to while away the time and although she was happy to sketch out a few of the background details of her life to the student, she was careful not to reveal too much about her quest until she could trust her new acolyte. When she judged the time was right however, she would start preparing Mhairi for her eventual induction into Amelia’s secret sisterhood.

Miss T (as Mhairi had started calling her teacher knowing it would to be indiscreet to be on first name terms in public) had made judicious use of the confined space in the short haul cabin to reinforce the growing bond between them. Several times they discovered that their shoulders and knees were touching but neither made any attempt to separate them, and as they continued to press into each other discretely none of the other passengers could have suspected that there was anything more serious going on between them.


During the train journey to London Amelia had been careful to warn Mhairi about the possible challenges which lay ahead of them.

“You won’t find out much about the Ecole Internationale de Rochebrune in the media as the place values its privacy too much, but it’s an elite boarding college near Grenoble which caters for the French haut monde as well as international jetsetters who want their daughters to learn how to ski like pros while perfecting their French.”

“Oh that’s just great!” Mhairi had snorted as this new piece of information was imparted. “You’ve no idea how much I hate snobs – and from what I’ve heard, French ones are the worst! Real, stuck-up bitches!”

Amelia had smiled at this sudden outburst, wryly appreciating that it was only natural for a girl born on the wrong side of the tracks like Mhairi, to envy or despise other girls whose effortless sense of superiority reflected their more privileged upbringings. In part this chip on her shoulder helped to explain the ruthless venom the brunette had exhibited in taking down Helen Brodie, a posh girl who was no stranger to great privilege herself.

The worldly-wise teacher sounded a note of caution however: “Although the girls you are about to meet might seem over-privileged and refined to you, don’t make the mistake of underestimating them. From what I’ve heard these over-sexed French eighteen year olds are anything but fastidious when it comes to pussy fighting. In fact, they are likely to be as battle-hardened as they come.”

“Maybe so, but I’ll match my rugged Scots pussy against a delicate, fragrant French pussy any day of the week and win!”
Amelia smiled quietly to herself. Mhairi might be justified in her self-confidence, but only time would tell.




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As they passed through airport customs and reached the concourse on the other side Amelia noticed two figures detach themselves from the waiting throng and started walking forward to meet them.

There was enough time for both pairs of females to size each other up as they approached. The tall, prepossessing black woman on the right must be Mlle Martin, the Classics teacher who Amelia had spoken to on the phone while arranging the visit. Her stunningly attractive, ash blonde companion was evidently a student. Amelia whistled softly: Rochebrune were clearly putting their best foot forward in sending these two alluring women out to welcome them.

“You must be Amelia Turner” the black woman said, smiling as she held out her hand. The grasp was dry and firm, a little too firm in fact. “I’m Zo? Martin, and I’m going to be looking after you all the time that you’re here.” The accent was only slightly French, the English diction flawless. Amelia suspected that Zo? might have been brought up in the Caribbean, possibly in a home where English and French were both spoken.

“Thank you Miss Martin – Mhairi and I are delighted to be here.”

“Oh please, you must call me Zo?!” the other woman interjected giving Amelia’s hand another firm squeeze before letting go.

“Right. And it’s Amelia for me. Zo?, let me introduce you to Mhairi MacGregor. Mhairi captains our hockey team and is the very model of what a Cardugan student should be like, and in so many different ways!”

“Enchant?e!" Zo? beamed at Mhairi, who had coloured slightly after Miss T’s glowing eulogy.

“Oh, and forgive me, now I should also introduce Sophie – Sophie St. Cyr who is captain of our senior girls hockey team and has many, many other, er, talents besides…”

Sophie stepped forward and shook both their hands, not the slightest bit embarrassed by her own teacher’s fulsome praise.

Staring Mhairi full in the eye, the gorgeous French student enunciated carefully in English: ‘Please to meet you, Miss MacGruder. We wan’ to make you most welcome here at Rochebrune. This afternoon, after you ‘ave freshen up, Mlle Martin and I would like to take you on a ski tour of the area.”

“That’s right,” Zo? smiled. “Until then Sophie will look after you, Mhairi, and get you kitted out for our trip. Now, did you bring your ski-suit?”

“Er - no, I was hoping to hire any equipment while we’re here,” the brunette replied, adding lamely, “We don’t actually ski that much in Scotland as the snow’s not very reliable.”

Sophie’s reaction to this development bordered on the theatrical “Oh la la! Quelle folie! No, I won’ hear of it. You shall borrow my spare suit Mhairi - and anything else you need.” Taking a step back, Sophie examined Mhairi for a few moments with a critical eye: “Yes, we are same height, no? Your teets may be smaller than mine but still, overall, my suit will fit you!”

Now it was Mhairi’s turn to take a step backwards. “My t- what did you say?”

“Oh, sorry my English is not perfect. I meant to say your ‘tits’ of course!”

“What the f- are you measuring me up already? Cos if you are…!”

Amelia decided to interject before the situation took a turn for the worse.

“Zo?, is there a shop where I can get an extra film for my camera. I’m hoping for some great shots when we go sightseeing later.”

“Of course, Amelia. Come on now you two girls, stop flirting and let’s be on our way.”

And with that, the gorgeous French teacher turned and moved, clearly expecting them all to follow in her regal wake. Amelia held back for just a moment longer, admiring the ostentatious yet casual manner in which Zo? Martin’s full, womanly hips sashayed as she walked away.

The beautiful redhead knew instantly that the stunning black woman was deliberately putting on a show for her; and she suspected that later that evening, she and Mhairi would have their work cut out, getting to grips with their sexy, confident new rivals.

And as any battle would be taking place on their hosts’ home turf she felt sure that both Frenchwomen would make sure to play their home advantage to the fullest...





End of Part 3