Author’s note: This is my attempt at a pastiche of a historical novel – a sort of Jane Austen meets the Lustful Turk. The views and attitudes of some characters represent those of the period and are not mine! I hope you enjoy the story.


In which Amy and Lucy’s governess applies firm discipline

Our story begins, gentle reader, in the tumultuous summer of the year 1815. They tyrant Bonaparte had been overthrown and exiled to St Helena and peace descended at last on Europe. As for myself, I had just attained the age of eighteen years and eagerly anticipated the pleasures of entry into society. One small cloud blighted the sunny face of this glorious summer. My beloved father, an eminent diplomat, was to be dispatched to Italy to conduct important negotiations on behalf of his Majesty’s government. Despite all my pleadings he would not consent to my accompanying him on his outward journey. Finally after many remonstrations on my part he consented to accept that I should join him at a later date. It was agreed that on the conclusion of his business I should join him together with my cousin Lucrezia, our governess and a suitable chaperone.

I should explain to you, dear reader, that my beloved mother has departed this life many years before when I was no more than an infant. However, my dear father had cared for me with the utmost solicitude from that dreadful moment onwards. Into our household came my cousin Lucrezia the child of my mother’s sister who had married an Italian gentleman. Sadly, Lucrezia had been orphaned when cholera swept through the country of her birth and the small child had been brought to England and placed in the care of my own father.

The education and upbringing of Lucrezia and me, or Lucy as she came to be called in our family was entrusted to our governess Miss Frances Burnley. Miss Burnley was the daughter of an impoverished parson somewhere in the North of England. Miss Burnley was what many would have described as a handsome young woman, sadly the beauty of her features was to my view marred by a severity of expression and manner. I came to realise as my perceptions sharpened with maturity that Miss Burnley harboured a mortal resentment towards those who had been born into more fortunate positions than herself. A more sensitive soul might have felt some pity towards two orphaned and motherless girls. Miss Burnley, however, only nurtured her antipathy towards us based, doubtless, upon her resentment at her need to take employment, albeit with an employer as benevolent and kindly as my father. While Miss Burnley was the epitome of charm and sweetness to my father, her manner towards Lucy and myself was one of coldness and impatience. Our lessons were conducted in an atmosphere of iron discipline and she was only too ready to chastise us for the smallest errors in our lessons or the slightest misdemeanours in our deportment. While my father was the gentlest and most loving of men, he believed in firm discipline and any complaints by Lucy or myself were shrugged off in his usual deprecatory manner. Miss Burnley knew best. Miss Burnley came with the best possible references from the most excellent families.

The news that my dear father was to depart for Italy and leave us in the care of this cold hearted woman filled my heart with dread. In my father’s absence her ruthless discipline would go unchecked and all the bitter resentments, which doubtless filled her bosom, would be poured out upon the two unfortunate girls in her change. Sadly all too soon the day came when my father’s trunks were packed into his carriage and Lucy and I bade him a fond farewell. He reassured us that he would soon send for us and departed.

In the meantime the overseeing of the household and indeed of Lucy and myself was to be in the hands of Lady Okeleigh, a widowed lady who was an old friend of my father’s. Lady Okeleigh had arrived at our house a few days earlier and installed herself in the best bedroom other than my father’s. There she spent much of her time attended by her own maid and a negro manservant by the name of Johnson. It quickly became apparent that Lady Okeleigh had little interest in taking responsibility for the running of the house or in the care and education of the two young girls who had been placed in her charge. She was only too happy to delegate the former to the housekeeper, while Miss Burnley was allowed a free rein in overseeing our daily activities.

Within a few days the difference which this would make in our lives became immediately apparent. Lucy and I were taking our afternoon lesson with Miss Burnley who was instructing us in the intricacies of French grammar. While Lucy spoke Italian well, having learnt it from her mother, she had no grasp of the rules of language and found it difficult to pick up more than a few words of French using Miss Burnely’s formal method of tuition. Lucy made error after error in the exercises set by Miss Burnley and our governess became increasingly irate at my cousin’s lack of attention to her studies.

Finally, Miss Burnley asked Lucy a question concerning the agreement of adjectives and Lucy burst out; “Really Miss Burnley, this is just too tiresome. May we not undertake some more interesting and meaningful activity. Perhaps we might go for a ride in the park?”

Miss Burnley’s face darkened and she said; “Miss Lucrezia, you will continue the exercise until you have completed it. If there are any errors you will remain in this room until you have corrected every one of them. If necessary, Miss Amy will go riding this afternoon without you.”

“But this is not fair!” exclaimed Lucy. “We have worked on these stupid French exercises all morning. I don’t want to learn French, it’s a stupid language anyway.”

At this she dropped her book and rushed into the next room. Miss Burnley followed her and although I remained seated I could hear raised voices through the open door.

“Miss Lucrezia, you will return to the school room this instant.” Miss Burnley cried in her most commanding tone.

Lucy could be stubborn and willful but she dared not disobey Miss Burnley. Even trivial acts of disobedience could earn a loss of privileges and both of us had spent weary afternoons writing out lines when we should have been walking in the garden or riding in the park. Recently Miss Burnley had taken to a novel form of punishment. This entailed beating us on the hands with a ruler. The victim had to hold her hand out while Miss Burnley administered the specified number of strokes. She had once given Lucy six very hard strokes and she had been quite unable use that hand for the rest of the day. Reluctantly Lucy returned to the schoolroom followed by Miss Burnley who shut the door behind her.

“Very well,” said Miss Burnley, “I see I have no option but to teach you a lesson. And Miss Amy, let this be a lesson to you too concerning the punishment for insubordination. I will not be spoken to in this way.”

At that Miss Burnley strode across to a cupboard in the corner of the room and to my great astonishment returned bearing a long and wicked looking cane. Where she had obtained this I had no idea as neither my father nor any other member of the household had ever physically chastised Lucy or myself before. I saw Lucy quail for a moment and then attempt to recover her composure.

“Bend over my desk,” commanded Miss Burnley.

“But, no” mumbled Lucy. “You can’t, this is not right.”

“It is completely right and I shall punish you as I see fit,” the governess said icily. “Now bend over the desk.”

Lucy hesitated one moment longer and then complied with the order which she had been given. I was unable to move, so shocked was I at this unexpected development. Lucy bent over Miss Burnley’s desk which was just waist high. I could see she was now very apprehensive as to what was to come next. Suddenly to my surprise Miss Burnley grasped the hem of Lucy’s dress and pulled it up folding her skirts above her waist. The action was so quick that neither of us had time to respond. In the summer months it was our custom not to wear drawers or other underclothes in order to enjoy a little coolness so Lucy’s nether regions were now revealed in their stark nakedness. For one of Mediterranean ancestry Lucy was quite pale and the white moons of her plump little buttocks were now revealed spread across Miss Burnley’s desk.

I expected Lucy to react in some way but she was clearly so surprised and terrified that she remained frozen in her position. Before she was able to come to her senses, Miss Burnley raised the cane and brought it down with considerable force on Lucy’s posterior. Lucy gasped in pain but Miss Burnley simply raised the instrument once more and brought it down with a swish on my poor cousin’s naked buttocks. Still Miss Burnley was not content and seemed to raise herself in order to bring all her energies into a third stroke. This time the cane landed with an almighty crack and dear Lucy emitted a shriek of agony. As Miss Burnley stepped back I observed three cruel red weals across poor Lucy’s pale buttocks. The final and most forceful blow had actually broken the skin and drawn blood.

Miss Burnley appeared a little out of breath but abruptly stated, “Lessons today are concluded, you will both go to your room and remain there until teatime.”

Lucy hurriedly pulled down her dress and stood rather shakily. There were tears running down her cheeks and I quickly moved to assist her in leaving the room. I held her as she hobbled along the corridor to our room.

Lucy and I had always shared a bedroom since she came to live with us and although my father had offered us separate rooms as we grew older we had always enjoyed the pleasure of one another’s company. As soon as we attained the sanctuary of our room Lucy collapsed face down upon her bed and sobbed into her pillows. I sat on the edge of her bed and comforted her as best I could. Gradually the sobbing gave way to anger and, as was her wont when angry, Lucy lapsed into her father’s tongue letting loose a stream of what I took to be Italian obscenities directed at our governess. Gradually I soothed her and reassured her. I promised that the next day I would inform Miss Burnley that we would not tolerate the use of the cane and that we would report any further attempts to chastise either of us in this way to Lady Okeleigh.

“How does it feel?” I asked Lucy as her anger gradually subsided. “Is it most dreadfully sore?”

“It is rather,” she replied.

I suddenly remembered that in my dressing table I had a salve which I had obtained form the apothecary in town. He had assured me that it would soothe any sore skin or minor abrasions and indeed it had proved a most efficacious remedy when I had suffered sore lips in the cold weather the previous winter.

“Lucy, would you like to try some of my salve. I am sure it would soothe you a little. You might feel a little better,” I suggested.

“Very well,” she said rather hesitantly. “Anything which might mitigate the infernal stinging in my backside.”

I fetched the little tin of salve.

“Would you like to do it or would you rather I applied it for you?” I asked.

“Oh Amy, do be a darling and rub it in ever so gently,” replied Lucy.

At this Lucy pulled up her dress and lay on her side facing away from me.

I opened the little tin and took a small quantity of the ointment on my finger. Lucy’s poor rump still revealed the cruel marks left by Miss Burnley’s punishment. Along the edges of the fierce red stripes were also purple marks of bruising such had been the ferocity of the caning. I gently applied the salve all over the inflamed stripes. Once or twice Lucy winced as I rubbed a particularly tender spot. However, after a few moments I was gratified when Lucy announced that she felt soothed and that the pain had abated somewhat. I gave thanks that I had had the foresight to purchase the magical concoction which had so speedily alleviated my dear Lucy’s distress. Both of us now cheered up a little, happy in the prospect that tomorrow we might put Miss Burnley to flight and that until the next morning we were released from the confines of the schoolroom.


In which Amy and Lucy discover Miss Burnley’s secret

The next day we presented ourselves as usual in the schoolroom following breakfast. Suddenly the confidence which I had displayed to Lucy the day before evaporated. I dreaded facing the awful Miss Burnley. However, I knew that I could not allow her to repeat her behaviour of the day before.

“Very well girls, to work. Today I expect no idleness and no insubordination,” Miss Burnley announced briskly.

“Miss Burnley,” I began rather timorously, “we do not feel that you have the right to chastise either of us in the manner which occurred yesterday.”

“I beg your pardon, Miss Amy,” said the governess sternly.

“I said, you have no right to use the cane on us,” I replied. “You know my father would not approve of it.”

“Young Madam, in your father’s absence I shall use whatever means of discipline I deem appropriate.” Miss Burnley said. “Now take your seat unless you wish for a dose of the medicine which Miss Lucrezia received yeasterday.”

“Miss Burnley, I shall inform Lady Okeleigh of what has occurred and we shall see what she has to say about it.” I said with as much confidence as I could muster.

“Lady Okeleigh! Do you think she cares about you. She is more interested in her footman than you!” Miss Burnley screamed. “Now take your seat and get to work.”

The day seemed to drag endlessly. It was oppressively hot and neither Lucy nor myself felt inclined to apply ourselves to our lessons. Miss Burnley seemed to find fault in every exercise which we completed. I hoped that my act of defiance that morning might deter her from further resort to physical punishment but I was not sure. I dreaded the moment when she might extract her cane once more from the cupboard and use it for its dreadful purpose on one of us.

During the afternoon lesson Miss Burnley told us that she needed to go and speak to Lady Okeleigh. She gave us strict instructions to work silently on the composition which she had set us and left the room. We heard her footsteps echo down the corridor. Lucy immediately began a whispered conversation with me.

“Thank god that harridan has left us alone for a while at last,” she said.

“Do you think I have managed to put her off using that dreadful cane?” I asked.

“I do hope so.” Lucy replied. “I do not believe my poor bum could support another such thrashing as she meted out yesterday.”

We continued our whispered conversation in this manner for some minutes keeping our ears wide open for any sound indicating Miss Burnley’s return. We were in the midst of analysing one the multiple character defects of our governess when I turned round and gasped in horror. There framed in the doorway stood Miss Burnley. Her face was like thunder.

“Did I not instruct you to work silently on your compositions?” she asked in an icy tone.

“Yes Miss,” we both replied.

“But instead you chose to fritter away your time in idle gossip. It is clear that yesterday’s lesson was not learnt. You will both receive six of the best. However, we will first finish the lesson and then you may receive your punishment at the end of class.”

This was even worse that I had expected not only were we to be soundly caned but we would have to undergo the torment of waiting through the rest of the lesson before this torture was inflicted upon us. The rest of the afternoon dragged interminably. I tried to concentrate on my composition but found it difficult to focus on Caesar’s invasion of Gaul while the prospect of a forthcoming laceration of my backside was looming. Finally the schoolroom clock showed the time of three o’clock, the time when lessons usually came to an end. Miss Burnley rose from her desk and asked us to hand her our compositions.

“Miss Lucrezia, you will receive punishment first,” she began. “Having experienced the cane yesterday you should now know how to comport yourself.”

I saw a look of dread appear on Lucy’s face as she hesitatingly made her way to the governess’s desk. She slowly bent over it assuming the position required for the punishment.

“If you would please arrange your skirt, Miss Lucrezia,” Miss Burnley ordered.

Lucy very reluctantly reached down, pulled her skirt up to her waist and once more bent over the desk. Her poor buttocks still bore the marks of yesterdays beating, though the redness had faded somewhat thanks to the blessed salve which I had applied.

Miss Burnley raised her cane with a look of triumph on her face and then brought the instrument down forcefully upon my poor cousin’s exposed bare bum. Five more dreadful strokes succeeded the first until the dear girl’s buttocks were simply covered in red stripes. To her credit Lucy gritted her teeth and refused to give the dreadful woman the pleasure of hearing her cry out. However, as she smoothed down her skirts and walked away from the desk there were tears of pain and frustration in her beautiful dark eyes.

“Now Miss Amy,” said Miss Burnley with a sinister smile. “You have escaped punishment for long enough, you wicked girl. You will now assume the position.”

All afternoon I had prepared speeches in my head, planning how I would defy Miss Burnley, how I would threaten to report her to my father. Sad to say when the dreadful moment arrive my courage fled and I meekly crossed over to the desk, hesitatingly raised the hem of my dress and bent over. Miss Burnley was breathing hard and I hoped desperately that she might have dissipated her energy in her assault on Lucy leaving less strength for her attack on me. This hope was soon dispelled as the first blow landed on my rear. The cane landed with an almighty crack perfectly in the centre of my buttocks. White hot pain shot through me and I emitted a small scream of agony. My buttocks felt on fire but I barely had time to register the pain before the second blow landed this time slightly lower. After the third blow I felt as if I could take no more. My posterior felt as if it were on fire and each blow sent a shock though my entire body as I fancy it might feel to be struck by lightning. There was, however, to be no mercy from Miss Burnley who appeared to have a ferocious energy when it came to the application of physical chastisement. The fourth blow landed and I felt as though I might soon swoon with pain. Mercilessly she laid on a fifth blow and then the final stroke. Perhaps the exertion was taking its toll or perhaps Miss Burnley perversely chose to change her target but the final swish of the cane landed across the top of my thighs. While my buttocks had achieved a a sort of numbness such was the degree of punishment they had suffered, my thighs were as yet untocuched and once more the white hot pain of that first blow shot through me.

Miss Burnley collapsed in a chair breathing heavily. Panting she finally managed to announce that the day’s lesson was concluded and that we were dismissed. Such was the dreadful pain in my backside and legs I could hardly walk and Lucy was hardly in a better state. Together we limped from the schoolroom and staggered to our room.

We collapsed on our beds face down and lay there in shock for some minutes. It was Lucy who broke the silence.

“Amy, I think I need your salve more than yesterday. I do not believe I shall ever be able to sit down again,” she said.

I struggled to my dressing table and once more found the little tin from the apothecary. I gently pulled back Lucy dress. Her poor buttocks were now criss-crossed with fierce red weals and I could almost fancy I could see them throbbing with pain. As gently as possible I applied quantities of the ointment. Once or twice Lucy flinched as even the gentlest of applications caused pain to a particularly tender spot. At last I finished and Lucy announced that the pain had abated somewhat and her bum felt soothed.

“Now you must allow me to repay the favour,” she said.

“If you would I would be so grateful,” I replied and rolled over now exposing my naked rump to Lucy.

My buttocks were so tender that at the first touch of Lucy’s finger I flinched. However, she deftly smeared the salve on my bruised buttocks and a wonderful coolness pervaded the flesh which had previously been burning with pain. I had no knowledge of the contents of this marvelous ointment but it certainly had almost magical properties for the relief of pain.

After some minutes of gently rubbing the salve into my buttocks Lucy had entirely covered my backside with the creamy emollient and also rubbed it well into the skin. I expected her to desist once she had completed this task but her hands continued to rove over my buttocks and thighs. The sensation was not altogether unpleasant so I remained lying facing away from her and allowed her hands to continue their gentle exploration of my nether regions. Before long one of Lucy’s hands had continued its exploration between my legs. Her fingers gently brushed the curly hairs between my legs and caressed my silken nether lips. I lay there frozen. No one had ever touched me in this forbidden place before yet here I was enjoying the sensation of being stroked in this soft declivity. It could not be right that I was enjoying the caresses of another female and yet it was clearly a source of pleasure.

I moaned softly as Lucy continued her caresses. I could not resist the temptation to ever so slightly open my thighs giving Lucy easier access to the quivering slit between them. Now her fingers began to effect the most gently and insidious entry into my throbbing orifice. I could feel a trickle of wetness now between my legs. I remained facing away from Lucy, I dared not move, I dared not look her in the face. Yet the wandering caresses of her hands were like a sweet balm after the violent punishment inflicted by Miss Burnley. Soon her fingers were stimulating the engorged bud at the entrance to my gushing orifice. Such was my innocence at that time that I had still to fully realise the pleasure available to one of my sex from this exquisite little organ. It did not take Lucy long to educate me in this. Her finger continued to rub and caress me in the most delightful manner possible. Sweet waves of pleasure were sweeping through my loins. Soon I was riding a plateau of ecstasy. From that small center of pleasure a delirious feeling of the most exquisite delight crept through my whole body. Lucy was now massaging my little bud quite vigorously with one hand and I noticed that her other hand had crept between her own legs and was performing the same service upon her own tiny organ.

Suddenly I was seized by the most delightful and uncontrollable spasms of pleasure. My whole body writhed in a kind of ecstasy. I had never experienced such feelings before. For a few moments I writhed in a helpless climax swooning and moaning with pleasure. As this climax subsided I turned over and smiled at Lucy.

“Thank you, that was quite wonderful,” I said.

“Was that your first time?” she asked.

“Well yes, I suppose it was,” I replied puzzled. “You mean to say you have done this before?”

“Never with anybody else,” she answered. “But often at night when you are asleep I rub myself under the covers and give myself that wonderful feeling which you have just experienced. Now you have had your fun, are you going to finish me off?”

I suddenly realised that I had selfishly permnitted Lucy to caress me to an ecstatic climax but that I had allowed her to remain unfulfilled. I reached across and let my fingers run through the thick bush of black hair which grew profusely between Lucy’s legs. Exploring this thicket I probed deeper and found the valley at its center. I had never touched a woman’s sex in this way before not even my own and I took pleasure in exploring the thick soft lips which surrounded the entrance to Lucy’s female orifice. Spreading the lips with my fingers I could admire the tiny pink bid of her clitoris surmounting the entrance. I inserted one finger into her sweet pink canal and felt the wetness of her juices. These I smeared on the tiny clitoris and gently rubbed around this little organ. Lucy moaned in pleasure. I continued to slowly rub her precious bud. I loved the sensation that I was giving so much pleasure to my dear friend. My hand moved faster and Lucy moaned louder. She was now lying on her back on the bed with her dress drawn up around her waist. Her plump white thighs were spread wide apart as my hand buried itself deep in the black tuft of her pubis rubbing ever harder and faster. Suddenly to my intense gratification Lucy began to writhe with pleasure. It was clear that she too was now achieving a climax of the same intensity to my own.

“Oh Amy, yes please, yes please,” she cried over and over again as her body bucked and quivered in ecstasy.

I plunged my finger deep into her quim and felt wave after wave of liquid nectar gushing out onto my hand. The muscles of her little channel tightened and contracted in spasms around my finger as her whole body was racked by wave after wave of intense pleasure. All too soon it was over. We lay together in one another’s arms and whispered endearments to one another. Suddenly the gong sounded for afternoon tea rousing us from our reverie and summoning us to join the rest of the household.

We passed our usual uneventful evening reading and sewing after dinner. Lady Okeleigh did not grace us with her presence and Miss Burnley maintained a stony silence throughout the evening, so we had not even the opportunity to play at cards, which was our usual pleasure.

At nine o’clock we were sent to bed as usual by Miss Burnley and were soon lying in our beds discussing the events of the day. My bum still retained a residual soreness but thanks to the marvelous salve I was at least able to sit down and the pain was bearable. Neither of us could sleep. It was a hot and oppressive night and I opened our french windows which gave onto a large balcony below which was my father’s Orangery. Our room was positioned at one corner at the rear of the house. Next door was Miss Burnley’s sitting room and next to that her bedroom. At the other end of the corridor also facing the rear of the house was Lady Okeleigh’s bedroom. All these rooms had large French windows which allowed access to the Orangery roof. It was thus theoretically possible to communicate form one room to another via the Orangery roof rather than the corridor of the house. Lucy and I had spent many happy hours playing on this roof as small children.

The hour grew later and later and still neither of us could sleep. Despite the late hour it was still very warm and close. The clock on the stable tower had just struck midnight when Lucy said, “Let’s go on the roof . It is so infernally hot in here.”

I quickly agreed and together we crept out onto the moonlit roof of the Orangery. Above us a huge harvest moon bathed the whole house in a brilliant white light. Outside it was a little cooler and we stood on the roof looking back at the house. At this late hour the whole house was in darkness but we noticed that the windows to Miss Burnley’s bedroom were wide open. Lucy beckoned to me and we crept closer. Suddenly both of us froze. From within our governesses room came a soft rhythmic moaning. On tiptoes we crept further forward until we were at the window’s edge and both of us cautiously leaned round to peer into the room.

The sight which met our gaze was one which both amazed and delighted us. The moonlight filled the room, flooding our governess’s bed in its white light. Miss Burnley was lying on top of the bed entirely naked. Her dark hair lay spread out across her pillows, her head was thrown back and her eyes were closed. I had to confess that she had a most fair figure with small but well formed breasts and slim pale legs. However, it was the activity between her legs which attracted most of out attention. . Between the governesses thighs was thick tuft of dark brown hair and her left hand was deep in this bush feverishly rubbing herself. Her right hand grasped a hairbrush, the handle of which was buried between her legs. Miss Burnley was energetically thrusting the wooden implement in and out of her gushing cavity. Now the rhythmic moaning was reaching a crescendo. The governess’s rubbing of her excited little clitoris became increasingly frenetic and with each thrust of the hairbrush into her raging cunny she brought her hips up to meet it as if wishing to impale herself on the invading wooden implement. Finally her whole frame shuddered and she pushed the brush deep into her inner recess and held it there for a few moments, clearly enjoying the last sensations of her climax.

Lucy and I quickly pulled back form the window, looking at one another gleefully. Lucy gestured to me that we should return to our room and we crept back though our own window as silently as possible. For a long time we whispered excitedly to one another concerning this new insight into the disposition of our governess. It would seem that beneath the stern breast of the ice maiden beat a passionate and lascivious heart. Finally after a much speculation as to Miss Burnley’s other sexual proclivities the two of us fell into a deep sleep.


In which the true nature of the relationship between Lady Oakleigh and her manservant is revealed.

We arrived at breakfast the next day and were surprised to see Lady Okeleigh at the table. Standing behind her chair was her manservant, Johnson, who seemed to accompany her everywhere. This negro was an imposing figure in his blue and gold livery coat and powdered wig. He stood over six feet tall waiting impassively but attentively for his mistress’s command. Lady Okeleigh rarely emerged from her room before noon and generally took breakfast in bed. We wondered what had prompted her to join us this morning. It did not take us long to find out. Lady Okeleigh presided at the head of the breakfast table looking splendidily beautiful. Although close to fifty she remained a most handsome woman and, when she chose to display these qualities, still retained the sparkle and vivacity for which she was noted in her youth. It was rumoured that as Miss Harriet Emberton she had been courted by many of the most eligible young men in the country but no one was surprised when she consented to marry the fabulously rich and glamorous Lord Okeleigh and became the chatelaine of his mansion Okeleigh Hall. Lord Okeleigh was addicted to riding to hounds and sadly had died following a fall while hunting. Since that time Lady Okeleigh had run the affairs of the estate until her son George, the present Lord Okeleigh came of age. As a widow Lady Okeleigh had, it was said, attracted nearly as many eligible admirers as in her youth but for reasons best known to herself had refused all offers of marriage. Nevertheless, she remained a notable society hostess and was ever active on the social scene in the London season.

As we tucked into bacon and eggs Lady Okeleigh suddenly addressed us.

“I have a little announcement to make. I have decided to hold a small country house party at Okeleigh Hall. I would like you, Amy and Lucy to join us. I think you are now of an age where you should be becoming familiar with the ways of society and I am sure that you will find your time with us amusing. Miss Burnley, you will of course accompany the young ladies as chaperone.”

Miss Burnley opened her mouth as if to speak but was quelled by a glance form Lady Okeleigh.

“Did you wish to say something Miss Burnley?” she asked imperiously.

“Oh, no your ladyship, except that I am not sure what Sir Arthur would make of all this,” said the governess.

“Miss Burnley, Sir Arthur has entrusted his daughter and niece to my charge. I am sure he has every confidence that I always have their best interests at heart.” Lady Okeleigh said forcefully.

“Of course your ladyship,” acquiesced Miss Burnley.

“We shall depart in three days time and stay at the Hall for a week. I shall instruct the maids to pack for you,” said Lady Okeleigh.

She then stood up and swept form the table, followed by the ever attentive Johnson. Lucy and I looked at one another in glee. This meant that we were to escape the confines of the schoolroom for a few days and what is more experience the pleasures of society for a while. The prospect of spending time in the grand environment of Okeleigh Hall simply added to our excitement.

In the meantime we faced the prospect of two more days under Miss Burnely’s instruction. However, even Miss Burnley appeared to be in a better mood as we settled to our lesson Perhaps her activities of the previous night had assuaged her frustration or perhaps even Miss Burnley was cheered by the prospect of a change of air. Whatever the cause, the oppressive atmosphere in the schoolroom lifted and we were allowed to work without the usual barrage of criticism. Nevertheless the day passed slowly in the summer heat. Neither Lucy nor I could bear to endure the wait until our trip should begin.

That night it was again oppressively hot and the moon shone brightly once more. Lucy and I chatted excitedly in our room about what adventures might befall us during our stay at Okeleigh Hall. Lucy hoped that there might be some handsome and charming gentlemen in the party who would dance with her. I looked forward to the opportunity for some new conversation.

Suddenly Lucy spoke. “Amy, you don’t think Burnley is at it again tonight next door.”

“Well you never know,” I replied, grinning.

“Shall we go and take a peek,” Lucy asked.

“Yes, let’s,” I replied.

Once more we crept out through the French windows and onto the roof. A brief survey revealed that tonight Miss Burnley’s windows were firmly shut and the curtains drawn so whatever vicarious activities that lady might be engaged in they were not to be revealed to our curious eyes on this occasion. Further examination of the façade of the house however revealed that a sliver of light was coming from between the curtain’s of Lady Okeleigh’s room. Finding this alternative target for our curiosity both of us were drawn to the window of her ladyship’s room at the other end of the building.

We both applied our eyes to the window pane and through a small gap in the curtains were delighted to be able to inspect most of the room within. The room was well lit with a number of candles and in the centre of the far wall was a great four poster bed. Lady Okeleigh entered the room carrying a candle and placed it on a small table beside the bed. To our surprise following behind her came Johnson who also placed a candle he was carrying on the table. If Lady Okeleigh was preparing for bed why was she not attended by her maid? This question which both of us were asking ourselves was quickly answered. Lady Okeleigh was indeed preparing herself for bed but appeared to prefer the services of her male servant for this office.

Johnson unbuttoned the back of his mistresses dress and slipped it from her shoulders. He neatly smoothed the dress and disappeared out of sight presumably to place it in a closet. He swiftly returned and assisted Lady Okeleigh to remove a sequence of undergarments. Her tight corset required some unlacing before the servant was able to loosen it and remove it. Finally Lady Okeleigh stepped from her drawers and stood quite naked in the middle of the room clearly illuminated by the candlelight. For a woman of her age she certainly possessed a fine figure. Her soft and ample breasts still possessed much of the tautness and firmness of her youth. Released from her corset her belly now displayed a slight roundness and there was a slightly dimpled plumpness to her thighs. However, all in all this was a most handsome woman and I could well understand the rumours that she attracted admirers who were only half her age.

Johnson appeared once more in our line of sight, having presumably completed his duties in putting away his mistress’s clothes. She meanwhile sat in a chair still perfectly naked while the manservant proceeded to produce a hairbrush and to brush out her long dark hair. This was of a remarkable lustre and richness and hung in long wavy tresses over her shoulders. Next Johnson produced a jug of hot water and filled a bowl on the washstand at one side of the room. He placed a towel on the floor and his mistress stepped forward to stand on it. Johnson dipped a sponge in the water and proceeded to wipe it across her ladyships back. He worked thoroughly and methodically, first down her back and then down first one arm and then the other. Throughout this Lady Okeleigh remained impassive standing like some Roman stature of the goddess Juno, only raising her arms to allow the servant to cleanse the tufts of her armpits and the underside of her arms. Johnson now continued his ministrations on the front of her ladyship’s body, which was facing us. Although his broad back partly obscured our vision of this process we were able to discern him steadily soaping and rinsing his mistress’s breasts and stomach. Now he knelt at her feet and washed first one leg and then the other. Lucy and I held our breath, surely Lady Okeleigh would not permit a servant to wash the most intimate and private part of her anatomy. But no, Johnson continued his work gently soaping the generous bush of dark hair which thickly forested the lady’s Mount of Venus. His sponge worked its way between her legs seemingly finding every crevice and orifice. For a moment the impassive look on Lady Okeleigh’s face was replaced by a small smile of pleasure as the servant carefully rinsed the thicket concealing her pudenda. Finally, Johnson brought a large white towel and carefully dried every portion of his mistress’s body.

Lady Okeleigh now climbed onto the bed and still quite naked laid herself down on top of the coverlet. Instead of lying along the length of the bed she lay across it with her legs draped over the edge. To our astonishment Johnson did not leave the room but standing by the bed began to divest himself of his own apparel. All his clothing he neatly folded and placed on a chest in the corner of the room. Within a few moments our eyes were gratified by the sight of this huge Negro standing naked beside his mistress’s bed. He was a most magnificent figure of a man, the rippling muscles of his arms and chest gleamed in the candlelight. What attracted our attention and held us spellbound was the huge organ which hung between his legs. At that time neither Lucy nor I had seen a man naked so we had no basis for comparison but my subsequent experiences have revealed to me that this black gentleman’s rod was of quite exceptional proportions. Even flaccid as it was at this point I judged his mighty phallus to be at least twelve inches in length and of considerable thickness. Before we were able to admire this awesome instrument further, Johnson moved closer to the bed. He now stood beside the bed with his mistress’s legs to either side of his own. He slowly reached out and grasped her calves spreading her legs wide and then sank to his knees before her.

To my amazement Johnson began to lick the inside of Lady Okeleigh’s thighs working his way up first one leg and then the other. When he reached the top of the second thigh his tongue began to rove across the profuse bush of dark hair between his mistress’s legs. Finally his buried his face in this thicket and appeared to be lapping greedily at her ladyship’s sex. I was both fascinated and horrified at this display of carnal voracity. It had never occurred to me that a gentleman might pleasure a lady in this way. Nevertheless, the prospect of this kind of licentious behaviour did serve to arouse some degree of excitement in my own loins. What was certain was that Lady Okeleigh was finding a degree of pleasure in the ministrations of her valet. Her head was thrown back on the bed and her mouth was open. A look of complete ecstasy crept across her face as Johnson continued to tongue her willing orifice.

September 2018
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