'I made to return, Emma, lest Papa deal with you too severely. I would have offered myself in your place beneath the birch, I swear. I made to open the door. I peeped. And than - ah then, I saw!'
'Oh, Eveline! I did not mean to - I did not intend to!'
'So you ever say, little minx. Speak not. What was seen shall remain forever a secret between us. I have sinned again - however unwittingly - in coming upon you in a moment of divine ecstasy. Do you forgive me? Only say that you do.'
A deeper flush had taken possession of her cheeks. Her heavy young bottom began to make small, hapless movements as I excited her clitoris. I closed her mouth with my own. I would not permit her to speak. The devil was in me. I affected a breathing sigh of pleasure and drew her limp hand over the satiny surfaces of my buttocks. My belly writhed upon her own.
Emma's deepening pleasure bubbled upon her breath. An interior excitement could not but have seized her at the thought of what I had witnessed. The realisation that I had apparently buried my sense of shock beneath a wonderment that she could so smoothly seduce her apparently outraged uncle comforted her. She relaxed in what she undoubtedly thought to be a dream.
'How divine you were, Emma!'
It pleased me to see the tendons straining in her neck, to feel the soft moist bliss of her love passage against my own. My mouth brushed wantonly around her nipples. Her fingers began to grope amorously beneath my bottom. I moved sensuously as if in anxious response to her seeking.
'Ah, that I dare tell you what I saw!'
I moved upon my hip beside her. My finger entered her sticky quim. It literally swam with his spendings. Emma's more hesitantly sought my nest. I whispered to her lewdly to insert it. The tip of her finger entered. I bit my lip. I implored more. I affected a certain delirium which, from the passion of her kisses and the more agile movement of her finger, excited her in equal measure.
'How delirious you have made me, Emma! Ah, how naughty, how divine of you to have induced Papa to possess you as he did! Forgive me, but I could not help but see. He had his cock full in you! How you wriggled!'
Emma was helpless now in her belief that my overwrought state was due to the manner in which she had submitted her charms to Lord L. and that I was totally carried away by the two exhibitions she had now given. No doubt she thought of herself as the conqueror of the entire household. Our mouths and tongues joined in that exquisite softness and knowingness that only women together possess. Her stiffened nipples stung against my own. I passed my hands down tightly under her swelling bottom, so causing the lips of her sex to rub against my own.
'Ah, Emma, did he spout in you?'
It was the moment for the question. I had judged it adroitly.
'Yes!'
Her confusion swam hot in my mouth. I passed my finger between the rich hillocks of her buttocks and teased the tight, puckered rose that she would yet surrender. I whispered as one possessed. I spoke as if in hushed admiration of her skills.
'Did your bottom feel nice? Did you want it?'
'Eveline! Ah, yes!'
My fingertip entered her rose. She was exquisitely tight and yet I felt the treacherous yielding. Her tongue swam in my mouth.
'Would you have liked Papa's prick so - in your bottom?'
'Yes! Ah yes!'
She scarce knew what she said. It did not matter. I had brought her to a point of lewdness from which she could never now retreat.
The English Governess
It's London in the 1880s. In a gloomy mansion in Great Portland Street an adolescent boy of a sensitive disposition kicks his heels while his only parent considers the pile of applications for the post of governess. Then a candidate arrives in person and, by force of personality, gets the job. Just like Mary Poppins, you might think. But Harriet Marwood is no Julie Andrews.
Harriet believes in discipline. For her, love is forged in the fires of pain: pain inflicted with the strap and the cane on the soft, submissive flesh of her impressionable charge, Richard Lovel. And Richard bears his humiliation, not only because he must but because he is in love and every blow from Harriet's fair hand binds their destiny. The English Governess, though a CP - corporal punishment - classic is essentially a love story.
In this excerpt, Richard's father has recently died leaving Harriet to be the guardian of his son and his fortune. Richard and Harriet mourn in France, where Richard confesses that on the last night of his father's life he slipped out of the house and visited a prostitute. Harriet is shattered by this betrayal and disappears for a few days to make certain arrangements...
We will spare the reader any description of Richard's misery during the three days that Harriet was absent. Suffice it to say that the experience of loneliness and dismay which he had felt so often was, if anything, more harrowing this time than ever before. For the first day he was sunk in a stolid and gloomy apathy; during the next, his anguish roused itself, becoming more lively and acute; by the time the third evening had arrived he was almost frantic with terror at the idea of the young governess having left him for good. This last possibility appeared to him not at all unlikely; for he knew nothing as yet of the terms of his father's will. It had been with a veritable convulsion of relief, a sense that it was almost too good to be true, that he saw the beloved figure descending from the coach when it arrived in the hotel courtyard that evening.
She did not come to him at once; and when she did her manner was cool, her greeting friendly but detached. Richard choked back the words of love that were trembling on his lips, and tried to assume an air similar to her own. When they went downstairs to dinner together, a casual observer would have put them down as comparative strangers to one another.
Harriet maintained this attitude of aloofness during the days that followed. She continued her care for his physical well-being, she accompanied him once more on his walks, she still read to him. But it was as if her affection for him had vanished: so, at least, it seemed to the wretched and bewildered boy, who craved nothing but a look, a handclasp, anything that might recall their former intimacy and allow him to hope it might be renewed. To receive a kiss from those smiling lips was so much more than he expected that he did not dare to think of it; but each night that went by without that dear accustomed salute found him closer to a despair which he was determined not to show.
So it became his study to adopt a manner that matched hers. He redoubled his politeness, while contriving to invest it with an air of casualness and indifference. This was a bitter struggle, but he felt that in waging it lay his only escape from the abyss of hopelessness that yawned before him. And soon, indeed, by dint of affecting this manner, he came almost to believe he was sincere. He began to dwell with growing satisfaction on her emotion on the night when he had made his confession; remembering her tears, he told himself that her present coldness must be assumed, that in reality it was she who was dissimulating her regard for him, that she was in his power. Did not her return prove all this?
In the meantime Harriet watched him carefully, without appearing to do so. Her hopes were rising once again: she understood the boy thoroughly, she observed the course of his remorse, and realised that his love for her was unchanged. Her own plans, completed during her visit to Paris, were already laid; as in the early days with her pupil, the days when she had so carefully prepared him for the experience of a woman's domination, she was now merely awaiting her opportunity.
It presented itself a few days later, in the form of a short note she received from an old school friend, a young Frenchwoman recently widowed and whom she had seen on her trip to the capital; this friend, with whom she had resumed correspondence some time before, and who had learned with pleasure of her penniless young schoolmate's sudden acquisition of a fortune and a fascinating ward, was pressing Harriet to make free use of her chateau in Brittany while she herself would be in the South. Harriet had left the note on her dressing-table that afternoon; before dinner she saw its position was slightly altered. She had been swift to turn the occ
urrence to her own profit; that evening, as soon as she and Richard were seated at their table in the dining-room, the play began.
'Well, Richard,' she said drily, 'it seems you are developing a new vulgar habit.'
He stared at her, not understanding, but already piqued by her tone. 'I did not know it, miss,' he replied.
Harriet's brows drew together for an instant. 'Indeed?' she said. 'So much the worse. I should have thought I had instilled in you certain elementary principles of conduct. It appears my efforts were not enough.'
'I - I do not understand you,' he said. The cold, contemptuous glance of the grey eyes filled him with a mixture of discomfort and irritation.
'Do not lie to me, please.'
He paled under the insult. 'I am not lying, miss,' he said. 'And - and you have no right to say so!'
Harriet smiled mirthlessly. 'You are becoming a good actor, I see. I congratulate you on it. But do you think I do not know you by now? You are lying, sir, when you say you do not understand the conduct to which I am referring. I suppose you are quite ready to add to your lies, and tell me you know nothing of a letter which was on my dressing-table, are you not?'
He dropped his eyes, abashed by the discovery of his action, flushing to the roots of his hair. 'N-no, miss... I - I did see the letter. It was lying open. But I did not - did not know you were—'
'You did not know I knew of it is what you wish to say, I suppose.'
'No, miss... Please, I meant I did not know—'
'Enough. Do not make me despise you further. You have already shown yourself the kind of creature who reads other persons' letters: do not add falsehood to baseness. Indeed, I thought I had cured you of the habit of telling untruths, long ago.' She smiled coldly. 'Do you not remember how I dealt with you, that day when you first lied to me about the chocolate?'
The boy's flush deepened. The remembrance of that early chastisement, joined to the consciousness of his own recent guilt, rendered him unable to speak and to repel the accusation which seemed linked to the fault he had already admitted; he was filled with confusion, humiliation, and a slowly rising anger.
'Have you really forgotten that evening?' Harriet went on, her tone changing to one of subtle mockery. 'That evening when you had your first taste of the strap?' She laughed. 'I am sure you cannot have forgotten it, my dear boy. Or have you?'
He was silent under these taunts, fighting back a retort. He became aware of the maitre d'hôtel hovering close beside them.
Harriet laughed again, and picked up the card. She turned to the maitre d'hôtel. 'You will serve the soup to the young gentleman and myself, please,' she said. 'After that the cutlets for me, and for Monsieur a portion of bread and water. He is in penitence this evening, and must eat maigre for his misdeeds.'
A flicker of surprise, then a deprecating smile, showed on the man's face. He bowed deferentially and disappeared. Richard felt himself choking with rage, but controlled himself.
The soup was served and eaten in silence. Every now and then Harriet directed a quizzical glance at her companion. But he refused to meet her eyes, husbanding all his courage. When the soup plates were removed he picked up the card and addressed the waiter in a clear but tremulous voice.
'I will take the rôti de veau,' he said.
The waiter hesitated, turning an inquiring glance to the young woman.
'Monsieur will take bread and water, as I ordered,' said Harriet quietly.
Richard, his face drained of colour, saw the waiter hesitate for a second longer, and then, at a brief and authoritative nod from Harriet, hurry away. - Ah, he had been unequal to the open contest; he had not dared defy his governess in public! The knowledge of his weakness, the experience of having been exposed and worsted, caused him such an emotion that he felt the tears of shame coming to his eyes. With a convulsive movement he half pushed back his chair and made as if to rise.
'Richard!' said Harriet quietly. The blazing regard of her eyes immobilised him. 'Keep your seat, sir! I wish to speak to you.'
He sank back in his chair, trembling from head to foot. The tears of frustration and humiliation had already started from his eyes, flowing unchecked; but not for anything would he have made his distress public by raising by his napkin to his face.
Harriet, her breast swelling with triumph, pretended to notice nothing; her voice assumed a pleasant, confidential tone as she leaned across the table. 'Thank you, my dear,' she said. 'I shall not forget this proof of your obedience - and of your delicacy... And now, listen to me. You are listening to me, are you not?'
He nodded dumbly, mastering with a supreme effort the sobs which kept rising in his throat.
'Understand that I will not tolerate insubordination in you, Richard, at any time or in any place. If I choose to humiliate you in public, you must endure it. Do you not understand that everything I do is for your benefit, is to make you the young man who will be worthy of my affection? Have you forgotten that so soon?'
The sudden vibrancy of her voice drew his eyes to hers. He saw that she was looking at him in the old familiar way, with that love which he thought he had forfeited forever. His heart seemed to expand for a moment; then his indignation returned.
'No, miss,' he managed to say. 'But surely - surely I have not deserved that you should - you should—'
'You have deserved every punishment I could devise for you,' said Harriet calmly. 'And you must still obey me in all things. Even though you have betrayed me.'
He raised his head. 'But why, why must I still obey you? I - I am sixteen years old, Miss... My father is dead... Surely I am now old enough to - to—'
'To be free of the authority of a governess? Precisely.' Harriet laughed. 'But not that of a guardian, my dear. I have refrained from telling you of your present situation until now, but you are now my legal ward, Richard.'
'Your - your ward? You are my guardian?' He stared at her open-mouthed. All at once, beneath his stupefaction, he was conscious of a wild, irrational rush of joy, of a feeling of such boundless relief that he felt almost weak. She cannot leave me! he thought.
'Yes. And I have been thinking very seriously of what to do with you, of the treatment that best suits your vicious nature. Do you know what I have almost decided, Richard?'
He looked at her, his eyes wide. 'No, miss...'
'To send you to school.'
'To - to a public school?'
Harriet smiled. 'No, not to an ordinary school. To a private school, a school for what are called - shall we say - 'difficult' cases, in the north of Scotland. Yes, I have long had Green Garden in mind as the proper place for you if you should resist my authority.' Her voice was cool, still pleasant; but she was watching him intently. 'It is in fact less a school than an establishment for incorrigibles. You know what that means, Richard?'
'Why - why, no, miss...'
'It means that a very severe discipline is maintained, my dear. More severe, indeed, than any to which even you have been used. There, it is the whip which has the first and last word: the horsewhip, Richard. I do not think you would enjoy the life there. But I have already written to the headmistress regarding a possible vacancy.'
He looked at her in blank incredulity. 'Miss, you would not - you could not send me to - to such a place...'
'It is quite within my power to do so,' said Harriet calmly. 'Enough! No questions, if you please. Eat your dinner now, Richard. That bread and water is the first instalment of your punishment. The rest - will come later.'
He looked at her in dismay; he would have spoken, but the sternness of her countenance checked his words. The dinner was finished in silence.
Half an hour later, as he had been bidden, Richard tapped at Harriet's door and received permission to enter. The curtains were drawn, the room was bathed in the subdued light of a single lamp, and Harriet, in a loose white negligee, was seated in a large armchair beside the fire. He paused, dazzled by the appearance she presented, struck silent by the breathtaking loveliness of the face whi
ch seemed to have recovered all its former bloom; his untutored glance could not tell that Harriet had, for this occasion, made use of certain artificial aids to beauty, anticipating for his benefit the genuine hues and contour which were only to be restored by repose and tranquillity.
She remained silent under his gaze, keeping her own eyes fixed on the fire with an air of dreamy absorption, letting the flickering firelight cast its glistening reflection under her long eyelashes. When he spoke at last, still not looking at him, it was in a low thoughtful voice.
'You must know, Richard,' she said, picking up a sheet of notepaper from the small table beside her, 'that I have received this very evening my answer from Mrs Brace, the headmistress of Green Garden. She tells me there is a vacancy in her school at present, but that it may soon be filled. This news has left me undecided whether I should not take advantage of her offer at once... There is the letter, Richard.' She held the sheet out to him. 'You had best read it yourself.'
He took the letter with a shaking hand, noticing with premonitory fear the firm, upright handwriting which seemed, already, to convey to him the threat of a severance from his beloved governess and a foretaste of the climate of this mysterious school. He read it numbly: it was as Harriet had said. But there was even worse; he stared at the concluding phrases: '...the regular initiatory treatment will begin at once, as usual. If you should advice any unusual methods or the use of any special instrument, you will let me know...' Shame rendered him speechless for several moments; the letter shook in his hand.
Harriet was silent, watching him with glittering eyes from under her lowered lids. A furtive smile curved her lips as she picked up a brochure from the table and turned the pages slowly. Richard's gaze followed hers automatically.
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