Rosie looked at her room with a mixture of horror and resignation.  When her parents had told her they were taking her on holiday to France she had imagined Paris, the Champs Elysée, the shops, the fashions.  She had not imagined some god forsaken hole in Provence where there wasn't a shop where you could buy anything more fashionable than an extra large baguette - and her room!  This was supposed to be the best single room in the Chateau Chatte de la Rose, it looked like the attic set aside for the lowliest servant, with no window except in the shower room, so that some bizarre Frenchman had decided that the only way to get light in the room was to put a glass door on the shower room (no bath tub, just a shower).  Not a frosted glass door mind, just a plain see-through glass door so situated that anybody coming into the room had a first class view of whoever was in the shower.  But even more peculiar, the toilet wasn't even in the bathroom; it was in the corner of the bedroom, only hidden by a curtain.  Stranger still the room was up a narrow staircase to the mansarde and fire regulations apparently decreed that there must be an alternative route of escape through the shower room window.  This turned out to be a strange harness contraption that buckled under your arms and was attached to a rope and a pulley, so that when you jumped out of the window wearing the harness the pulley slowly lowered you to the ground.  Rosie was shown how to use the contraption.

"I'm not having that room!" she exclaimed to her father.

"Stop complaining young lady", he replied, "most girls of your age would jump at the chance of a holiday in France, and it's the best single room in the hotel".

Girls of her age!  Rosie fumed.  She was sixteen (seventeen as near as made no difference), and she didn't know any girl of her age who would sit on a toilet in the corner of the bedroom, or shower in a room with a glass door, or have to escape strapped in a harness!

"It's not as if there's anyone else in the room", exclaimed her father, exasperated by her recalcitrance.

Rosie flounced off.  She had only been persuaded to go to Provence by the promise of a day's shopping on the Rue de Rivoli and she had bought a pair of high heeled shoes, very high heels, in quite the modern fashion.   She was dying to try them on.

"Get yourself unpacked", said her father and meet us downstairs.

Rosie stuck her tongue out at his departing figure as she started flinging her clothes out of the suitcase. She wasn't running downstairs at his beck and call.  She would have a shower first, then she would try on her shoes.  But what to do about the glass door.  She didn't want just anybody just barging in and seeing her in the shower.  There was a big bath towel in the shower room.  She would hang that over the glass door like a curtain, and that would protect her from view.  It had to hang on the outside or it would have got wet.

So, carefully putting the towel over the door, she took her clothes off and stepped naked into the shower.  Well there was one good thing - it was one of those power showers which pulses water at you from all directions.  Rosie loved those.  She loved the pulsing hot water bouncing off her bare skin.  She looked down admiringly at her breasts - she didn't know many girls of her age who were so well developed.  She wasn't quite so sure about her bum though, maybe too well developed!  Carefully she aimed one jet at her right tittie and one at her left, and turned the water on.  She gasped as the hot jets struck her and made her nipples go stiff.  She just loved it when her nipples went erect.  She was carefully aiming a third jet at her... well at the other place she liked to aim the jet at and which she carefully shaved every day, when a dreadful thing happened.  She heard the door to the room start to open.  Quickly she turned off the shower.  She didn't want anyone to know she was in there.  Unfortunately, Marie, the chambermaid had been delegated to change the towels in all the rooms.  She came in.  What a silly place to leave a towel - hanging over the shower door.  Quickly she marched over and snatched it down - and shrieked.  The sight of the naked girl cowering inside gave her such a fright.  She frowned at her, wagged her finger and marched out.

Rosie crept out of the shower and started to dry herself down with the clean towel, silly woman!  Well, she'd make sure she had the towel well and truly jammed in the next time.  She rubbed herself well with the towel till she was nice and pink, and then spotted her new shoes that she'd just unpacked.  She would just have to try them on.  She took them out the box and looked at them admiringly.  They would nicely show off her shapely legs, probably help her bum not to look quite so big, well perhaps they would.  She'd have to try them on now just to see.  She sat down on the only available place for sitting on, which happened to be the toilet in the corner of the room, and put the first shoe on.  It looked good.  She put the second shoe on - it looked even better.  She lifted her leg up and turned her knee out so she could admire it from the side, when suddenly the door burst open and somebody dashed into the room.  A boy!  A young lad a bit older than herself with curly blonde hair.

"Ooh la la!" he said (did French people really say that), "sorry, perhaps I have the wrong room, I did not know you were er... I mean on the er..."

Rosie blushed scarlet.  She realised she was still in the same position, holding her leg up, displaying everything to this strange youth.

"Oh, I'm not... I mean I wasn't...  I mean I haven't been... I mean I was just trying my shoes on", she blustered.

She stood up to try and go and retrieve her towel but she wasn't accustomed to really high heels.  The youth looked on spellbound as she tottered a few steps, lost her balance and fell, ample arse over big tits, backwards onto the bed waving her legs in the air and displaying absolutely everything to his astonished gaze.  He backed out of the room, slammed the door shut and ran off.  Rosie pulled herself up and went over to the door.  There didn't seem to be any bloody way of locking it!

That evening at diner her father had an announcement:  "Rosie, tomorrow your mother and I are going into Nice to visit some old friends.  I'm sorry but we can't take you with us".

Rosie breathed a sigh of relief; a whole day to herself.  Thank God she'd be spared the old friends, but disappointment was to come.

"Now, Rosie, I don't want you just wasting your time.  You're here to improve your mind as well as enjoy yourself".  Rosie didn't like the sound of that.  "Tomorrow I want you to visit the Matisse exhibition at the museum, and study the exhibits there.  You must tell me all about it when we come back.  I'd be very interested to hear about it.  And if you tell me all about the Matisses then we can stop in Paris on the way back and you can go shopping for a handbag to match your shoes".

Rosie gulped, how much time would she have to sped in the stupid Mattress Museum before she could escape back to the swimming pool and still go shopping for a handbag.   A handbag - how she longed to go shopping in Paris for a handbag.  Oh well!  She'd been told to do it so she'd better make the best of it.

Come the morning however the weather was so nice, and the pool so inviting that once her parents had gone she just had to take a dip.  After all there'd be plenty of time to see the mattresses later.

She swam lazily, then she sunbathed, then she swam again, then she looked at her watch and shrieked.  It was nearly eleven o'clock.  She'd have to get a move on if she was to see the mattresses before her parents got back in time for lunch.

She hared back to her room.  She'd have to have a shower before she could set off for the museum.  The bloody maids were going round doing the rooms.  Well she wasn't going to have them seeing her naked in the shower again.  She took the towel and wedged it hard in the door so that it hung outside the door acting as a curtain as she shut it.  They'd never get that out!

She stood under the shower again enjoying the powerful jets of water playing on her... on her... well everywhere.  Then reluctantly she switched it off and pulled on the shower room door to open it.  It wouldn't open!  She pulled harder, but the harder she pulled, the more the towel just jammed it.  Finally she put her feet against the wall and pulled with all her might.  The door handle came off in her hand.  In horror she realised that she was trapped naked in the shower room.  The hope of a shopping expedition to Paris started to fade.  She shouted and shouted but nobody came.  She had known all along there was only one way to get out.  Only one way to get to the mattress exhibition in time.  Only one way to save her shopping expedition to Paris.  She would have to escape using the escape harness.  The thought of being lowered slowly down the side of a building suspended on the end of a rope stark naked didn't exactly appeal to her, she was after all a modest girl, but it was the only way she was going to get her handbag.

She looked out the window.  There was no-one about.  She fastened herself in the harness as she had been shown.  It wasn't too comfortable naked, but it fitted comfortably enough under her big bosoms, making them stand out proud in front of her.  She looked down.  It seemed a long way to go down naked, but she would do anything for that handbag.  She launched herself off the window.  It was easy really.  The pulley unwound slowly, and she was lowered gently towards the ground.  She looked round nervously.  She couldn't see anybody.  If only she could get down without being seen!
 
Only five feet to go, four feet, three feet!  There was a sudden clanking noise and the rope stopped unwinding.  Rosie, horrified, found herself suspended stark naked three feet above the ground, arms and legs kicking wildly.  It looked like she was stuck there until someone came.  Perhaps her parents!  What would they think if they found their daughter dangling in the hotel grounds and the nude for all to see! 
 
Jean-Luc was sitting in his room looking out the window contemplating the embarrassment of his encounter with the naked girl in the high heels the day before.  How could he have mistaken that room for his parent's room!  He was on the ground floor, his parents were on the next floor up and the girl had been in the mansarde.  What must she think of him!  Some sort of kinky voyeur, bursting in on girls sitting on the....  Oh mon Dieu! He didn't like to think about it!  She did have fine tétés though! He wished he could get another look at them.  Then suddenly his wish was granted in the strangest way.  The girl suddenly appeared stark naked outside his window hanging from the end of some sort of rope.  He stared open mouthed as the rope suddenly tautened and she was left dangling in mid-air waving her arms frantically and spinning round slowly, Giving him alternate views of her fine bosoms, with their hard erect nipples, rounded chubby derriere and oh merde - sa  petite chatte chauve.  It took him a few seconds before he realised she was gesticulating for his help.  He ran outside.  She seemed to be dangling from some sort of pulley mechanism which had jammed.  How had she got there?  What was a young girl doing dangling in the open air without a stitch on!  Anyone coming along could see her.  He had to act quickly.  The quickest way to release her seemed to be to grab hold of her legs and pull her down.  He went to grab hold of her.  Foutre!  His nose was on a level with the chubby derriere, but as he took hold she spun round and he found his nose pressed into her...  Oh no!
 
Rosie shrieked, "you've got your nose up my....". 
 
Oh my God!  She said the word.  The word she didn't even like to say to herself.  The word her parents probably didn't think she knew. The word that modestly brought up young ladies of sixteen shouldn't know! 
 
Fortunately he was foreign and it had come out more like 'ghghunndt!!!', so much was she shrieking.   
 
Even if he hadn't understood the word the import was quite clear.  He backed off, spun her round and this time with his nose in her bum pulled her down until she could reach the ground. 
 
She took one look at Jean-Luc, shrieked again and ran off to her room, where she buried her burning face in her hands, all thoughts of the mattress museum forgotten.  She'd said the word!  She'd actually said it out loud!  Oh the shame of it. 
Somehow it was more shameful to have said the word than to have had it on display. 
 
Her parents came back, and she knew nothing about the mattresses.  Glumly she joined them for lunch. 
 
"Sorry about the Matisse museum", said her father, "I didn't realise it was closed Mondays.  Anyway I'm sure you found plenty to amuse yourself"
 
Rosie perked up a bit. 
 
"Does that mean I get the handbag?" she asked 
 
"Well I have some news for you", said her father, "our friends in Nice have invited you to spend the rest of the holidays with them.  They have a daughter of your age called Sylvie, so that will be nice for you.  And it will be a good opportunity to improve your French"
 
Rosie was enchanted with the thought.  A holiday away from her stuffy family, and with a girl of her own age!
 
"But what about the handbag", she asked. 

"Oh, they have good shops in Nice, and you'll need some more clothes anyway, so I'll let you have some money to do some shopping"
 
Shopping!  On her own!  Without stuffy parents!  What better holiday could there be.  Things were looking up!
 
"Ah, here's Jean-Luc", said her father, "he's Sylvie's cousin, staying here with his parents"
 
Rosie looked up alarmed to see her saviour of the morning. 
 
"Jean-Luc this is my daughter Rosie", said her father.
 
"We've met already", said   Jean-Luc, "in fact I've seen an awful lot of Rosie since I got here".
 
"A lot more than we get to see of her in Chipping Sodbury I'll warrant", said her father. 
 
I should hope so too thought Rosie! 




