The Young Governess (8 page)

“Thrust back! Thrust back!” he commanded her.

Kate, beneath his battering attack, thought she could feel the first delicious torrents of the hot, white cream splutter into the depths of her rectum. It surged through her body with the force of a bursting dam, burning into her heaving belly like hot, liquid fire. The delectable sensation touched off her own climax and she creamed as the vast gush of pleasure rippled through her, and then she could feel some of his warm sperm escape and dribble down the crevice of her wide-split bottom to the slit of her open, throbbing cunt... and then he was withdrawing his deflated member from inside her with a shamefully loud expulsion of wind that was followed by another little gush of viscid semen that spattered the leather upholstery below.

Slowly, Kate collapsed, every muscle in her spent body quivering from sheer exhaustion. She lay on her belly, and she turned and stared up in utter disbelief at this man who had somehow come to exercise this weird, unholy power over her senses. Now, in the wake of her played out passion, shame and revulsion inundated her, causing the tears to flow quietly from her eyes.

Dear God forgive me! I could not help myself. It was as if I had no control!

But she knew full well that once he had started, she wanted him to continue performing that bestial, forbidden act upon her. She knew that she was addicted to sexual congress of any sort, with any human being. Oh! What is to become of me now, she asked herself piteously.

The Reverend Pike came closer into her tear-blurred view. One of the Handmaidens was wiping at his penis with a small white towel. He was smiling... almost leering, Kate thought.

“Wipe away your tears, young lady,” he said, giving her a ghastly grin. “You are now a Handmaiden. Tomorrow you shall become a Follower, a far more testing experience, I can assure you. And for heaven’s sake, girl, a good fucking in the arse never hurt any female, nor is it anything to be ashamed of, if that is what your tears are about.”

Kate clenched her eyes closed tightly, biting at her lower lip until she actually tasted her own blood, the filthy words sending a wave of nausea coursing through her. She had never felt so alone in her life. She was caught in an abominable trap and she didn’t know how or why, or where she could turn. She couldn’t go to Alice. Nor the Belfonts. Nor even Mrs Proctor. Not now… not after this! She had no one but herself to rely on. And it was this thought, far more than any other, she knew would sustain her through the trials that so clearly lay ahead. For what did the horse-faced cleric mean when he spoke of ‘a far more testing experience’?

Gently, the Handmaidens led her back to the vestry where they bathed her with warm, scented water, washing away all traces of her ordeal and helped her to dress. In the coach, on the way back to the house, Kate answered Alice and Ellie’s solicitudes with sullen brevity, but she gave them no indication of her anger or desperation. She would find a way to leave the Fordhams of Walthrop. Somehow, she would. She had to!

The next day Kate started her job in earnest. She was up early and by nine o’clock had breakfasted and put the neglected schoolroom back in good order. When Ellie appeared to take her first lesson, her new governess sat at a table with her back to the bow window appearing, or so she hoped, as forbidding as humanly possible.

Ellie was quite unprepared for the strictness of her lesson. To demonstrate a point, Kate would tap the end of her pencil on the wooden surface of the table, or if Ellie’s attention wandered for a fraction of a second, she would slap down a thin wooden ruler with a fearsome ‘crack’. In less than an hour, Kate had reduced her pupil to tears. Although she knew it was wrong to take it out on Ellie, and perhaps not very diplomatic, Kate found this was a small, but satisfying, recompense for her humiliation in front of her pupil, her mother and those dreadful women yesterday.

As Ellie, who was, in Kate’s opinion, not one of Nature’s natural scholars, struggled over her sums and her French irregular verbs, Kate had another chance to review her time at Walthrop. She had only been here a few days and already her world had been turned upside down. And this evening she would be subjected to another sexual ordeal at the Hall of Worship. She very much hoped that the detestable Reverend Pike would not be there.

* * * * *

While Kate was attempting to drum a few basic facts into poor Ellie’s empty head, Sir Bradley and Lady Fordham were exchanging ideas of a very different nature in the conservatory. They were quite alone and talking most amiably.

“My dear Alice, I agree. She is a splendid fuck. Of course, I agree with you there. But we must ensure that my old friend Belfont never learns of her, ahem, extra-curricular activities here. If he or his wife ever found out we would have the dickens of a row on our hands. The scandal would ruin us.”

His wife gave him a sardonic look.

“And what if she should fly the coop?”

“Why, m’dear, I have every confidence in your powers of, ah, Lesbian persuasion.

You are making her a ‘Follower’ tonight, are you not?”

Alice nodded.

“Well, if that doesn’t break the filly, then we really shall have a problem on our hands.”

“Leave it to me. She will be available for your ‘guests’ when they arrive later in the week. Even if I have to give her another of your Laudanum tinctures.”

“Why did you not give her some before old Pike had his filthy way with her?”

His wife gave him a vulpine smile.

“Because I wanted our little trollop to feel it more keenly… and suffer. Ellie did. And so did I. And besides, through pain comes pleasure, as that old sodomite Pike and his bitch of a wife Bella are always so fond of pointing out. But tonight, have no fears, I will make sure she is well dosed.”

“Can’t stand that wretched couple. I feel quite sorry for poor Miss Spencer, really.”

“I can’t think of a better arrangement than that which we have now,” replied his wife sharply. “Besides, who else could we possibly trust to take care of your little angels?”

* * * * *

That evening, Kate found herself once more seated opposite Alice and Ellie on the short coach ride to the Hall of Worship. She had promised herself that afternoon to stage a last minute rebellion. To inform Alice that it was her time of the month. To plead temporary insanity. Anything! But after dinner and some more of the delicious, heady wine that she found so hard to resist, she had gone along meekly with them. After all, she reasoned to herself, she may as well get it over and done with. Then perhaps they would leave her alone.

The interior of the Hall was brightly illuminated by a myriad of lamps and candles and to Kate the effect seemed quite beautiful. Extravagant quantities of fresh flowers had been placed in great vases placed decoratively around the raised platform at the end of the Hall and their scent filled the large room. Again, there was the same number of women – about fifteen, thought Kate, not counting the Handmaidens – as the last time she was here. They were talking animatedly, but an expectant hush descended upon the company as the Walthrop party arrived and all eyes were upon Kate. Again, in the centre of the dais, sat that instrument of her last torture, the prie-dieu. The Handmaidens were much in evidence.

The woman who had been dressed entirely in black on her last visit came up to them. Now she wore ecclesiastical purple robes similar to those that the Reverend had worn on that occasion, and Kate realised that this must be Mrs Pike.

She addressed herself to Alice, however, not Kate.

“So, this is to be our new young Follower, Lady Fordham. Pretty. Very pretty.”

She clapped her hands once and six nubile young beauties appeared.

“Handmaidens! Take her to be disrobed!”

Kate seemed to glide mysteriously from one situation to another with no conscious memory of the journey, as if her sense of time and space were slightly distorted; once more she found herself in the vestry. This time, however, the half-dozen, smiling, robed Handmaidens who undressed her were much freer with their delicately enquiring, busily delving and tweaking fingers. “How pretty she is!” Kate heard one half-whisper to one another, “See how ripe an’ ready fer plucking!” “Blimey! fer fucking, don’tcher mean?” the other said, and the voices dissolved into more giggles. Such liberties they took, thought Kate vaguely. Her nipples were pinched into a state of reddened stiffness. Eager young hands cupped her breasts. Her pubic hair was fluffed and combed; her labia were squeezed and stroked, with special attention to the clitoris. Not even her pretty little bottom-hole was left in peace, as an oil-slick finger insinuated itself to the first knuckle there. Kate started to quiver and shake with the divine sensations induced by these mischievous, but tender, ministrations. She felt pleasantly light-headed, and seemed to drift in and out of a delicious warm and dreamlike state. Finally, rouge was applied to her cheeks and her nipples.

Suddenly Kate was aware that she was back in the hall, and the atmosphere had been transformed. Where she had left a gathering of respectably dressed young and middle-aged women, now a witches’ coven existed. All were naked or nearly naked. All focussed their smiling attention on the youthful governess. She was led to the prie-dieu and bade to lie down, this time, on her back. A circle of predatory female faces looked down upon her and Kate felt scared. What did they want of her… surely not all of them were… lesbians!

The group parted to give a new arrival space. Like the others, Bella Pike was naked, but for a leather belt around her waist, from which dangled a fearsome device made of black India rubber and fashioned in the shape of an erect male member. In her drugged condition, certain details became almost preternaturally clear and now she could see that the shape of the phallus was more complex than she had thought. It was grooved in such a way that the ridges would give maximum sensation to its recipient. The scrawny cleric’s wife stood at Kate’s feet, looking down on her sacrificial lamb. Her dark, beady eyes glittered greedily. Kate noticed that her breasts drooped and that she had a little pot belly, below which grew an unruly mass of dark pubic hair. She spoke in a surprisingly deep, masculine voice. ‘Bella’ was perhaps a misnomer, however there was an undeniable aura of powerful sexuality about the woman, Kate thought.

“Tonight Katherine Spencer will be tried and tested by the company present for graduation from Handmaiden to Follower. She will join our sisterhood and taste the fruits of our love and desire. And she will give to each of us what we most desire of her. She is sworn to uphold our secret society. Under pain of death!”

“Under pain of death!” murmured the assembled women.

“Then let her trials begin…”

It started with the Handmaidens, who remained clothed in their white cassocks, adjusting Kate’s thighs to expose her sex to its best advantage. This time, her torso was lower than her shoulders, so that her genitals were generously displayed. My cunt, she thought to herself, they’re all looking at my cunt! She felt a sting on her breasts and saw that one of the Handmaidens, a pretty, big-breasted, redhead, was holding a flail with silken cords. She brought it down again and again, Kate felt the sting of the delicate silk fronds on her nipples. The sensation was wonderful, and it almost instantly triggered a shameless lust in her and she knew that she was getting wet, very wet indeed, between her thighs.

Her dark, intense eyes growing a little softer, Mrs Pike reached down to cup her hand over the curly mass of pubic hair between Kate’s outstretched legs. The brunette gasped as the naked cleric’s wife applied pressure with her bony fingers, then moved in slow sensuous circles, lovingly massaging the young woman’s hairy, moistening cunt. The fact that yet another, unfamiliar female was touching her in such an intimate spot brought colour to Kate’s cheeks. Suddenly she longed to touch her pendulous breasts, to feel the soft mounds of forbidden flesh under her fingers.

Moaning, Kate’s hands reached up to cup the twin, dangling, pear-shaped breasts. The firm smooth flesh felt pleasant and Kate found her hands moving in slow sensuous circles. Almost as if they possessed a will of their own, her fingers kneaded the ivory, pink-tipped dugs, the delicate nipples tightened under Kate’s attention and the excited governess let her fingers slide across the pink rosettes. Mrs Pike’s stiff nubbins felt delightful under her fingers, and Kate was gratified by the way they rose in quick response. Eager to bring Mrs Pike still greater pleasure, she opened her hands to aim her palms at each distended nipple. Moving her hands in quick circles, she rubbed her palms across each fiery nub. She heard the older woman gasp, then felt her fingers move downwards to slip ever more deeply into the swollen folds of Kate’s inner sex. Kate’s legs trembled and she split them even further to accommodate Mrs Pike’s busy, inquisitive fingers.

While the mistress of ceremonies fingered her throbbing cunt, a Follower, a slim, small-breasted, blonde woman reached from behind to seize Kate’s generous breasts in her hands, kneading them vigorously, making her breath come in hot little gasps. Craning behind her, Kate could see her face; she saw that her eyes were glazed over with lust and the tip of a pink tongue had slipped out between her lips in a way that suggested pure erotic enjoyment. Kate abandoned the palming of Mrs Pike’s distended nipples in order to reach upwards and grasp the newcomer’s pert little breasts the way the Follower was grasping hers, good and hard. Whimpering, Kate squeezed the twin hills of flesh enthusiastically, her excitement mounting. She heard laughter and felt the lash of the flail on the inside of her thigh, but suddenly it did not matter who was laughing at her, or whipping her, or why.

Nothing mattered now except the wonderful way that Mrs Pike was exploring her throbbing cunt while the other woman played with her tits. The combined carnal treat, along with the thrilling experience of fondling another strange woman’s breasts, was almost more than the excited girl could bear. Her heart pounded and her breathing grew ragged. She forgot everything but the frantic beat of her streaming cunt. The blonde Follower’s fingers moved to her nipples, twisting and pinching the sensitive caps while Mrs Pike’s fingers toyed with her oily slit. Finding the stiff bean of her clitoris, the gaunt woman squeezed and nipped it between her fingers. Kate’s hips began to move in heated circles while catlike mewlings came from her throat. Encouraged, Mrs Pike flicked her forefinger back and forth across the fiery nub until Kate arched her back and cried out in an abrupt orgasm, her hands still spastically kneading the blonde’s small breasts just as she was squeezing hers. The brusque climax she experienced took her almost by surprise. “Ahhh! I’m spending!” she cried in astonishment, her pelvis bucking.