Mother’s New Governess Ch. 01

On the third day's lesson he'd also noticed that besides reading again from ole' "Oedipussy Rexxy," his Auntie had some other literature stacked next to the reading chairs. They'd come from his mother's sitting room and he'd never really paid them much attention. It was rare that he ever even went into that room at all, for that matter.

As his sister read a passage from the book in her lap, and Harry and Mabel jotted notes. It seems at some point Bess's foot accidentally kicked the stack of tomes; sending the leaning tower of literature promptly to the floor. Harry (gentleman that he was), scampered after them in order to return them to an orderly stacking. When he did so however, he was shocked as he caught sight of the brilliantly colored leaves within one of the open volumes.

There before Harry on the pages were several lurid images of men and women, naked as the day of their birth, frolicking and reveling in the most outlandish of lewd and lascivious positions. He saw twosomes, threesomes, foursomes - and bloody-well moresomes!

He saw the nude human form twisted and re-twisted in so many ways, as to defy his very comprehension. His pego immediately set about twitching beneath his trousers in a most uncontrolled manner. Was he seeing what he was seeing?

"It is the Kama Sutra Harry," his Auntie Lucy explained upon seeing his expression, "it's an ancient religious text of supreme historical value. We shall be discussing it in the days ahead, yes?"

"Yes," Harry said going crimson in the face, "quite so; The Kama Sutra."

He set the books back into the stack and sat down, retrieving his pencil. A problem now vexed him. His randy little pego would simply not go down.

The problem did not escape notice by his auntie, nor by the girls (who said nothing), His aunt's normally serious face did however, change slightly. It wasn't a smile exactly; more a gleam of keen interest across her features, (like a hawk spying a furry something scuttling about a grassy hill below it). Harry saw none of it; simply bowing his head over his paper and taking notes while trying to make it bloody well go down!

That night he did the foul thing again. He also ended up sleeping to one side of the bed. At midnight, he roused himself in need of a tinkle and trotted down the hall to the loo. Passing by Mummy's door, he heard great commotion there-in as he'd noticed so often before. Mummy must be having a bad time again sleeping, poor thing!

He tiptoed by her door but just two paces past, he thought he heard another woman's voice inside; that of his cousin Mabel. No, he thought...she is sleeping down the hall in Auntie Lucy's bed. Don't be a fool Harry...must be a mistake.

He then passed by his Auntie's room. Similar commotion came from inside beyond the door. 'Lucy must be a tempestuous sleeper as well,' he reasoned.

Just beyond the door, he thought he'd heard his sister's giggle. No, a trick of the head. It couldn't be; her room was well down the hall.

He made his way to the loo and did his business before returning to his bed, (staying clear of that awful sticky spot). He slept. He began to dream.

In his dream world he used the restorative power of his nightly adventures to recharge his mind; fighting pirates, finding buried treasure, and discovering rare butterflies. His dreams tonight however, were filled with the strangest of images. A room inside the house had been festooned with pillows and cushions. Music of a strange oriental variety played by an unseen party of musicians in the alcove.

In one corner stood the upstairs maid, Meredith. She'd prepared a hookah pipe and was standing naked to the waist in a set of harem pantaloons; puffing on it and making perfect "O"s of smoke whilst she waited for Harry. He strode into the room and she offered the mouthpiece to him.

He took a deep cleansing drag while she cupped and fondled her own large and lovely goblet-sized breasts before him. He set the pipe aside and she took him by the hand to the room's center. She dropped her pantaloons and got on all fours; naked and fleshy as a freshly plucked goose. It was then his Auntie Lucy appeared at his side; not stern or dour but beaming with encouragement.

"Take her!" she urged him with a smile and a prod to his ribs.

She opened her own oriental robes of crimson and green and dropped them to the floor, saying again to her nephew, "take her! She is here for your pleasure, now mount-up my sweet!"

Harry suddenly found himself naked; as if his garments evaporated in the blink of an eye. He walked up to the upturned bum of Meredith and skewered her on his pego with masterful bravado. The maid shrieked in a yelp of pleasure and excitement. Grasping her hips with hands clenching soft bum-flesh, he thrust hard up into her and commenced her "taking," as Auntie Lucy nodded with approval.

Harry awoke lying on his tummy. His dream had tormented his mind and churned his loins to a supreme state of agitation. Remembering his dream, he thought that if it was good to be the King, it was bloody well marvelous to be the Sultan! He did the wicked deed again, (careful to keep things on the other side of the bed). He slept.

#

In the night it began to rain. It was a heavy pouring rain; hanging like a blanket over anything and everything in the Devon blackness. It was still raining quite hard in the morning when Harry was sticking pins in his little multi legged friends; fresh from the killing jars. He'd just labeled and impaled a particularly beautiful blue green moth (with all the skill of a Romanian Prince thwarting a Turkish invasion), when he heard a voice behind him,

"Good morning Harry!"

It was Auntie Lucy. He set his bug collection down and looked at the clock. She probably was set to get cracking early.

"Oh don't worry Harry," Auntie Lucinda reassured him as she read his thoughts, "we won't be putting noses in books today."

He sighed a bit from relief; the act forcing a happy chuckle from her. She then put a hand to the side of his head and brushed his hair with it. It was such a light lacy touch that her fingers had; soothing even, he noticed.

"I do think that there will be some lessons however, just not what you were expecting. First let's get up these books and put away all these lovely butterflies!"

In no time at all, books and butterflies found their way upon the shelf with very little effort. Cleanup was always easy with eager hands, (and Lucy's were most eager indeed). Harry's auntie then took him by the hand, leading him past Drusilla, the black Jamaican downstairs maid.

"Drusilla," Auntie Lucy said, "Harry is to take a bath this morning. See that he's not disturbed until he is done. He's getting a bit of a chill I think from this absolutely vile weather."

The Jamaican woman nodded her head but she thought he looked fine. His aunt had a rather odd look in her eyes but the young man was fine. She shrugged shoulders and putting it out of her head, set about her work; grateful that she wouldn't be picking up any of his bugs 'n messes this morning.

Harry began to protest that he felt perfectly fine as I mentioned before, but Auntie put a finger to his lips. For an instant her stern visage returned. It was the briefest flashes of correction, but it was sufficient to make him clam up and do as was told. At the top of the stairs his auntie explained to him patiently with an arm about his shoulder,

"Today's lesson is about health, relaxation, and hygienic prevention. You do know what I speak of, yes?" His answer was cut short as she continued,

"I think with this weather one cannot be too careful. Wouldn't you agree?"

She stopped at Edwina's bedroom door and knocked. She listened. Harry answered her question.

"Of course Auntie, but why are we not heading down to the loo in the hall? See here, I think I can bathe mysel..." He was again shushed with a finger to his lips but this time the woman's face was not stern, only smiling. A voice from inside said,

"Do come in."

It was mummy and her voice came from inside her master bath. Apparently she was preparing things for him. In a way, she most certainly had.

Upon entering the room with Harry, Aunt Lucinda bid him to remove bathrobe and pajamas. He protested,

"But I..."

"Not to worry," Auntie Lucy corrected him," undressing in front of a Governess is like undressing in front of a doctor or a tailor fitting you for a new suit; there's simply nothing I haven't seen." Still Harry protested with, "But I..." however, a stern resolute voice shot from the next room,

"HENRY CORY! DO AS YOUR GOVERNESS TELLS YOU!"

It was mummy sounding quite cross, (she'd called him Henry too and not Harry); bloody serious this was! Odd thing though, had he heard her sloshing about in the tub? No, that couldn't be; he was the one who should be taking the bath, correct? He stepped out of his things as Auntie gathered them up in her arms.

He was now naked as his day of arrival upon this earth. He was a bit perplexed as well by what was occurring, he decided to step off smartly alongside Auntie and get this silly lesson in hygienics (or whatever it bloody-well was), out of the way in the hopes he could stick a few more pins in his bug collection.

Anyhow, he stepped through the doorway to the bath and his mouth immediately fell open. In the bath sat mummy it was clear she wasn't preparing the water for him. She was most decidedly enjoying the tub's contents and she beckoned for him to join her.

Harry was struck by a bolt of shock and uncertainty as to what this was all about. He looked first to Mummy and then to Auntie Lucy, not understanding what he should do next exactly. Mummy continued patiently to beckon with her finger as Auntie nodded saying softly and calmly,

"Go on Harry, it's alright. It's time."

Harry tossed a leg over the rim of the clawfoot slipper tub and stepped in. The bath was large; larger than normal, but then again it had to be. It had all the markings or Harry's father, (so to speak).

#

It seems when Mummy was first given the house, Sir William (or bathing Billy as he was called), presented her the home with a modification. It seems bathing Billy loved the bath. He spent hours in his tub at Sedgewick Manor and he did everything in the bath. He shaved, he read the paper, he dictated correspondence, he read books, he ate meals, played chess by mail, he took his brandy; all in the bath. Once in a great while he fell asleep there too!

Sir William thought the modern clawfoot bath epitomized Western Civilization in gleaming self-indulgence and mastery over nature; seeing it as proof that the Empire had a right to its supremacy. His fascination with the bath combined with his wealth, meant that he saw fit to spare no expense in furnishing his house with the latest in bath accommodations and nothing was too opulent for him. In fact, he went as far as to have all the main bedrooms and guestrooms in his mansion outfitted with oversized clawfoot tubs.

Actually, when I say, "oversized," I might be putting it somewhat mildly. It was somewhat unconfirmed but back then there were whispers at the time eluding to the fact that the large tubs with their garish gold trim could hold Billy, two bottles of champagne, three ladies of normal proportions (four providing corsets were tight enough), and a floating box of cigars!

Yes, he did everything in his bath...and everyone apparently! That was how Edwina became great with child in the first place. It was also how she became a great aficionado of the bath and the act of bathing.

The experience left her you might say, "imprinted" as it were. She often wasted hours in her own tub, thinking of Sir William and what might have been; all while letting her hands wander down beneath the surface of the soapy water and bubbles for a little "self-dredging" of her little pink harbor!

The only difference was now it appeared Edwina would be getting some new and youthful "excavation equipment" to dig out her pink channel in the soapy depths. As she tilted her head and looked at her son's nudity, she might even be getting the ole' canal widened a bit even; judging by the look of things. Oh how exciting it was to her; she simply loved civil engineering projects, (and the arrival of the heavier equipment on the project site was most certainly welcomed). She didn't regret her decision in the least (regarding change outs for the job's manning)!

Harry now stood in the steamy warmth halfway to his knees. As bathtubs went, it was most-certainly spacious; much bigger than the one in the hallway loo. He felt small, vulnerable even.

He had remembered as a very young lad bathing in this enormous monstrosity, (and he thought rather on the big side of things then). Standing there now; he noticed that it hadn't changed at all in that respect, for it was simply enormous. He guessed it large enough for him and at least five more people as he crouched to sit down, (only to be corrected by his Auntie),

"Remain standing Harry," Lucinda said with an air of cold authority that reminded him a bit of an angry policeman, "and place your hands on top of your head with your fingers interlaced!"

"Really," he said, "I don't see how it could..."

He was interrupted by a stinging CRACK to his bumcheeks. There was the crisp slice followed by searing heat. At last the pain rose up forcing him to drop open his mouth and howl an agonized cry of YEEOOOOOOOOOWWWW!

Stunned and surprised; he wondered just what on earth had just struck him. A second later he had his answer. Auntie Lucy held up before his nose the rattan cane she'd brought with her three days earlier.

A flash of something dark and cruel flashed across Auntie Lucy's face for a moment before her whole expression changed to something tranquil (almost kind). It was in stark contrast to the hornet sting she'd just laid across his arse. He could tell one thing for certain; she was deadly serious and he did as told, interlacing his fingers over his thick black head of hair while his Mummy crouched on all fours down in the water, looking at him with a pleasant smile over her shoulders.

"Now then," said Auntie Lucy, "I am going to ask you some very specific questions as part of this lesson." Her words were most patient; spoken in a voice that dripped honey as she gave him that same calm expression; all love and tranquility.

"In order for your relaxation to be complete," she continued, "and your cleansing to be thorough, you must be absolutely truthful. I will not stand for lying little boys."

"No Ma'am," he answered "no lies at all!"

"Good," she said placing the cane against his bare bum so that he could feel its intimidating knobby touch, "my first question is most simple. ... Did you not get up a few weeks past in the middle of the night and go to the loo?"

"I did Auntie," he answered after pausing to think of what she'd said.

"And did you not," she continued, "walk past your mummy's room and see her door ajar?"

"Yes ...on one night I did,"

"Good, and Harry what did you see?" she asked in a whisper, her eyes coming together in a squint.

"I saw Mummy sleeping."

"Oh, you saw her sleeping?" she said with a condescending tone of barely concealed derision, "And was she sleeping soundly?"

"No," he answered, "she was moaning and talking in her sleep,"

"And was Mummy clothed?" she asked. He became uneasy. How much did she already know?

"N-n-no," he stammered, "she was naked accept for her stockings?"

"I see," Lucy said, "and did she do anything else? Did she do THIS?"

Lucinda nodded with her head to her sister. Edwina demonstrated by sinking a hand down under her belly to rub and vex her furry pink sex; not three feet away with her arse high off the water. She moaned and screwed eyes shut in a ludicrous masturbatory pantomime; running her tongue across her lips gasping,

"Oooohhh yes...just like that! Ooh, just like that please!"

She said all that, and other things to that affectation. Harry immediately understood. He nodded his head, far too bashful to speak.

"And," continued Auntie Lucy; never raising her voice but speaking with the same patient tone that became more ominous and accusatory with each word,

"you watched her didn't you? You watched her, you naughty wicked little boy. You went to the loo certainly...oh and then you returned to your room. There in your bed you sinned. You sinned thinking of your mother, rubbing and abusing yourself like a wretched animal! You did a foul deed to yourself right there in your bed, YES?"

By the time she was finished speaking she sounded like an old judge raging at a convict in the dock; about to deliver the harshest of penalties, but she never raised her voice. She remained calm, letting intimidation and Harry's own uneasiness do the rest.

"NO!" gasped Harry alarmed by how the questions had turned, "NO, I WENT TO SLEEP!"

"Went to sleep?" asked Auntie Lucy with one eyebrow cocked as she stepped back for a moment to hamper of dirty clothes, "then how do you explain ...THIS?"

She reached into the laundry items and held aloft his sheets like a semen encrusted, 'Exhibit A' for all to see. Yellow protein-splotch circles betrayed his spending releases over the course of several evenings. Auntie Lucy continued to hold up several articles of bed clothing and night shirts; each soiled with dried foul crust of wasted seed. There was only one man in this house who could have wasted it too.

Harry stared at the water, not able to look up and feeling horrid, horrid shame. His mummy felt a wicked twinge of pride that those balls could spend so prolifically and her finger stroked herself lightly in genuine excitement now. Lucy felt the swelling satisfaction of having caught her quarry in a well set snare as she returned to the edge of the tub; nothing ever escaped her, (certainly not a lying nephew).

She placed the cane back against his bum and with her free hand, she seized his penis in a vice-like grip. For the briefest of instances, she sucked in her breath in disbelief, (shocked at the mass of the coursing male organ suspended in her fist). Curiously she noted, it was rising already. Her look of surprise evaporated quickly however; without Harry even having noticed. She contemplated the matter as she held him like a gardening tool.

It seems the sting on his arse had triggered something in the very depths of his balls. Lucy guessed that this (combined with his fear and the very sight of his mother's self-abuse), had agitated him to a certain degree of 'manly readiness' that she found most agreeable. Oh yes she decided; he was a most worthy subject!

Harry was simply terrified his aunt would rip his tadger out by the roots the way she squeezed him. He shot a desperate glance to Mummy, who had by now stopped touching upon herself and dropped her bum back to the water; coolly watching him with the slightest smile on her sweet lips. Finally, she spoke and provided him with an explanation.

"Oh Harry," Edwina said with pouty lips and moon sized eyes, "I wasn't sleeping darling. I was awake and dealing with a need; a vile wicked need of mine! You understand, yes? I mean, we all have our needs...you DO understand me, Harry?"

He nodded a speechless and shameful 'yes' to her rationalizations, but then Aunt Lucy interrupted the moment of forgiveness with,

"That still does not diminish the fact that you watched you mother and you lusted for her!" Her voice was now raging and judgmental.

"NO!" he replied.

"Liar!" his aunt spat back, "You lie like all naughty little fellows who see their mummies and wish to do wickedry with them. They then sneak off to a dark little corner someplace and commit beastly acts upon themselves. How did you do it boy, like this?"