From the Top Shelf - The English Governess F/M

Today's selection is by our dear departed friend, Rollin Hand. I will let him explain to you how he came to write it.


"Devotees of femdom lit are very familiar with this classic novel [The English Governess] by John Glassco. In it a young man, Richard Lovell, an only child born into a wealthy family, is placed in the care of a young governess, Harriet Harwood. Harriet Harwood is beautiful, domineering and cruel. She thoroughly intimidates young Richard even as he is in thrall to her charms. Richard then learns to his utter humiliation that she intends to punish him physically for his failings, among them, secret masturbation which she discovers by examination of his bedclothes. Her weapon is the cane. She forces him to bend and bare himself for searing strokes with her cane, a punishment he comes to fear greatly. The novel catalogs the arc of Richard’s total domination by Harriet and ends with her marrying her young charge, thus taking total control of his fortune.

"Harriet’s implement of choice is not exclusively the cane. There is a scene at the seashore in which Harriet humiliates Richard in front of some girls by taking him into a beach cabana and whipping him with a looped bit of cord that she finds. Richard knows the girls outside are listening, and the reader is made aware of his utter and complete embarrassment at being treated like a child in front of them. But mostly, it’s the cane with which Harriet terrorizes Richard.

"I always thought that something was missing. It would seem logical to me that she would escalate her punishments, starting with something milder, and saving the dreaded cane as the ultimate weapon at her disposal. This then, is the missing scene."

THE BATH SCENE

Harriet Harwell stood on the bank, hands on her hips, glaring at Richard. She wore a severely tailored suit, a wide brimmed hat, and black gloves. At that moment Richard, in serious trouble, covered with mud, looked up and had the idea that she was beautiful, even in her fury, which was evident.

“Well, Richard, ” she said in a clipped tone. “It seems you have disobeyed me. Not only did you not tidy your room, but you came down here, which I forbade you to do. You are filthy and you have ruined a perfectly good suit of clothes. Get yourself out of there this instant.”

Richard felt a cold knot in the pit of his gut. Miss Harwell had meant to be obeyed and now she was very angry.

“Get up and come with me to the house this instant,” she ordered. Richard meekly pulled himself up. “I didn’t mean to, Miss Harwell,” he whined lamely, “I was going to clean my room…I didn’t mean to get dirty I-I fell. You startled me.”

Harriet whirled and faced the whining lad, fixing him with a withering gaze. “Master Richard, I don’t care to hear your sorry excuses. You deliberately disobeyed me. I forbade you to play in that pond, and now look at you. You will have ample opportunity to make amends, sir. You will now follow me without delay.”

At that she turned on her heel and marched off toward the house. Richard now completely cowed, trudged behind her, his steps plodding toward an uncertain fate. The girls were standing in the driveway as the pair approached. Their faces bore smirks at Richard’s obvious discomfort, and Richard could overhear their speculation as he walked by.

“Oooh Richard is in trouble, Emily, what do you think Miss Harwell will do?” questioned Elizabeth.

“I fear our cousin may have a right good whipping for his disobedience. Serves him right, too,” countered Emily.

Richard overheard the comments and involuntarily clenched his buttocks at the thought. That phrase–a right good whipping–resonated in his mind as he regarded Miss Harwell opening the back door to usher him in. He’d been spanked on occasion when his mother was alive, but she had died when he was ten. His father had been too distracted and busy to discipline the boy–hence Miss Harwell.

She ordered the kitchen staff to heat some water. “As you can see,” she told them as they regarded the sopping wet boy with some amusement, “he’ll take quite a scrubbing.” The cook, Edna, and Jenny, the maid, shook their heads with a smile as if to say, “Boys–wouldn’t you know it–dirty, disobedient scamps.”

“Come with me, straight to the upstairs bath, Master Richard.” She took Richard by the elbow, pinching his nerve. He floundered along beside her. “Care that you don’t touch anything,” she admonished, but her grip controlled him so that they kept away from the walls. When they arrived at the large upstairs bathroom she ordered him in. “Now you will wait until the water arrives. I will return.” And she left shutting the door behind her. Richard let out his breath in a big gasp and sat on a bench, dripping and cold. Shortly the water arrived courtesy of Jenny, a husky farm girl who was on the household staff. Behind her strode Miss Harwell wearing a white apron like nurses wear, a hefty long handled bath brush in her right hand. When Jenny had poured the steaming water into the tub, Harriet dismissed her and turned to Richard.

“Take off your clothes,” she said flatly. Richard stared at her as if he could not comprehend. She still standing there, her lips pursed, her arms folded. Surely she didn’t expect…

“Did you not hear me, Richard? I said take off your clothes.”

“I-I… b-but with you here, I…” he stammered, blushing.

“I will tell you only one more time and I will then call upon Jenny to assist me, take off those dirty clothes at once, sir. I intend to scrub that mud off of you. You wandered into the pond like a disobedient child and now I’m going to bathe you like one.”

Richard’s blood froze. She was going to see him naked! And give him a bath like he was a six-year-old! He had never felt so humiliated. The look on her face meant business and Richard rose to slowly strip in front of the imperious mistress. He did not want Edna or anyone else to see him naked. He reached his under shorts and hesitated. “Please, Miss Harwell, I’ll clean myself up. I’ll bathe really well. You don’t have to help me.”

“Richard, I’ve had enough of your foolishness. I mean to bathe you myself and you will take those drawers off and climb in that tub this instant,” she said pointing the wicked looking bath brush in his direction.

With a shiver he eased down his last scrap of clothing exposing his blushing body to the stern Miss Harwell. He felt completely humiliated having to strip in front of his governess. It was so shameful to be exposed this way to this young woman. And to his horror he felt his penis harden as he slid his pants down. He hastened to cover his private parts with his hands, but he knew she could see his stiffening prick. Her eyes narrowed and she glared at his reaction.

“That will be enough of that. Get in the bath at once,” she commanded.

Richard hastily obeyed, but yelped as he climbed in, the water was so hot. Miss Harwell approached, a bar of strong soap and the bath brush in her hand. She sat on a bench beside the tub and proceeded to scrub the dirt-caked boy. She was none too gentle about it and Richard thought she was going to scrub the skin off. He was especially embarrassed when she made him stand up while she scrubbed his legs, groin, and bottom. The harsh bristles hurt on the tender skin of his behind. She scrubbed him head to toe and when she was finished Richard thought she had surely taken off a layer of skin. She rose from the stool and fetched a towel.

“Get up Richard. I’m going to dry you off and then we must talk about your behavior.”

Completely subdued, Richard rose, dripping. At Miss Harwell’s command he stepped out of the tub. Miss Harwell sat on the bench and held open the towel for Richard. As he stood between her legs she vigorously rubbed him with the towel. Richard flinched as the harsh toweling chafed his skin now made pink from the bath brush. “Ow, Miss Harwell, ow…” he yelped.

“Hold still, Richard. Don’t squirm, you naughty boy. I’m not of a mind to be gentle with you after your wretched behavior. Now then,” she said apparently finished, “it’s time to talk about your disobedience.” A cold chill went up Richard’s spine. He was naked and his governess was seated at a bench with a long-handled bath brush in her hand. “Turn around and face me, Richard.”

Richard turned holding the towel in front of his body to face Miss Harwell seated on the bench. “What you did was in direct defiance of my orders, wasn’t it?”

“Y-yes, Miss Harwell,” admitted Richard.

“I specifically forbade you to go to that pond, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but…”

“I will have no excuses, Richard. You disobeyed me and you will now be punished for it. Now put that towel down and place yourself across my knee.”

“Oh, no, please miss, no,” wailed Richard when he realized what she intended, his worst fears confirmed. She intended to spank him like a child.

“Do not add defiance of my command to your list of sins, Richard. Across my lap at once, you wicked boy. I’m going to teach you a good lesson in obedience.”

Richard froze, which prompted a disgusted Miss Harwell to jerk the towel away. She gripped the blubbering boy by the earlobe and forced him, squealing, face down over her knee. She grabbed his right hand and twisted it up behind his back while simultaneously lifting her right leg. This forced Richard’s nose toward the floor and raised his buttocks vulnerably pointing the unblemished cheeks upward. Richard’s response was one of deep shame at being upended nude over Miss Harwell’s lap.

Speculation about the physical sensation to be visited on Richard’s buttocks ended with a swift volley of stinging smacks from Miss Harwell’s capable right palm. She spanked hard, visiting alternate cheeks of the chubby boyish behind with sharp cracks that resounded off the hard walls of the steamy bathroom.

“Ow…ow…ow…” wailed Richard, squirming and kicking his legs in response to the surprisingly sharp pain. She was only using the palm of her hand and it stung like blazes. She spanked with a rapid-fire arm motion that delivered smack after stinging smack to the tender seat previously scrubbed to a healthy pink by the brush. He was quite overwhelmed by the pain. It stung worse than anything he had ever experienced.

“I mean you to mind me young man *smack!smack! smack!* So when I tell you *smack! smack!* not to *smack! whap!* play in that pond I mean for you to obey *smack! crack! whap!* Do you understand me?”

“Owwww….aaah…yes, Miss Harwell,” bleated Richard. But Miss Harwell just kept spanking Richard’s reddening buttocks with brisk smacks applied equally between the two bobbing mounds. Richard couldn’t help but writhe and jerk, but Miss Harwell had him in a steely grip. Determined to administer a punishment that Richard would remember, she increased the tempo of the shamefully juvenile smacking, now concentrating on the very crown of Richards bottom cheeks. Richard pleaded for mercy, but the relentless spanking continued. Richard felt his eyes well up with tears, it hurt so much.

After what seemed like an eternity, Miss Harwell stopped, resting her palm on the summits of Richard’s red and stinging bottom. Thinking it was over, Richard made to rise, but Miss Harwell held him down.

“We are not yet finished, Richard,” she said. To his horror Richard felt her hand move away and heard a wooden clatter. She was picking up the bath brush! He squirmed in panic. “Hold still at once Richard. I mean this to be a salutary chastisement, sir, one you will remember the next time you are tempted to disobey.”

Richard felt more than heard a whoosh of air and then CRACK! the brush landed on his buttocks flattening both cheeks and causing more pain than Richard believed possible. Richard screamed in pain and the tears began to flow in earnest as crack after crack of the wicked brush fell on his wriggling fanny.

Downstairs the household staff could hear the loud crack of the brush and Richard’s piteous wails.

“The young Miss is giving Master Richard a good seeing to,” remarked Jenny. “She was quite angry with him,” said Edna nodding as the smacks and howls continued to emanate from the upstairs bathroom. “I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes,” remarked Jenny, “I had enough spankings myself growing up and this one sounds like a doozy.”

Richard was blubbering and babbling–pleading for mercy, wriggling over Miss Harwell’s knee, crying salty tears. The last ten smacks were hard slow and deliberate. Each one carried with it a litany of repentance.

CRACK! “Will you obey my rules?”

“Oww…yes…yes…”

CRACK! “Will you mind me?”

“Ouch….aaah…please, yes…”

Down the hall in their bedroom Elizabeth and Emily listened raptly to the shameful punishment being meted out to their cousin. Elizabeth’s own tender bottom cheeks clenched in involuntary sympathy as she listened to the crack of the hard brush. Emily shuddered as she realized that Miss Harwell would not hesitate to treat her the same.

Harriet Harwell finally stopped and regarded her handiwork. The boy’s bottom was a bright red, and swollen. She had punished him severely, but no more than what was warranted. She relaxed her grip and raised Richard to his feet. Richard was sobbing uncontrollably. He had forgotten he was standing nude in front of Miss Harwell. She lifted his chin as he rubbed his blistered sit spot and raised his eyes to hers.

“Now Richard, I hope you have learned your lesson. I will not tolerate disobedience. Well?”

“Y-yes, ma’am,” sobbed Richard. God, his behind stung!

“Now, you will be confined to your room for the evening. Supper will be sent up to you. Go,” she commanded.

“Yes, Miss Harwell. I’m sorry, I really am,” said the tearful boy. “I won’t do it again.”

“I’m sure you won’t,” said Harriet Harwell with a thin smile.

But will he?

I have read The English Governess; have you?