The Governess’ shame

I was reading quietly by the fireside in the study, The oil lamp shone brightly and the firelight flickered as I whiled away the time before supper one cold dark February evening. A knock at the door brought me back from tales of derring do to the present. “Come” I directed, but instead of Cook announcing supper supper it was our governess Miss Williams who entered and she was in some evident distress.

She had been with us for several years now looking after my son James and daughter Emily since my dear wife departed. Departed with Mr Wilmot the cuckold and all round scoundrel you understand not departed this mortal coil.

“My Lord, I must speak with you,” Miss Williams urged.

I looked at her. In the deep shadow cast by the oil lamp I could see that her facial bone structure was good, her bosoms bulged alluringly enough her waist seemed trim enough and her legs were both long and slender, but her straw colour hair was severely bound into a bun and her face was pale as dough completely devoid of rouge or any ornament, enough to dampen any man’s ardour

“Why of course Miss Williams,” I agreed to her request.

“It is Master James sir, I am afraid he is too grown to need a governess now.” she explained.

“Quite possibly,” I agreed, “But what am I to do about it while Emily is still a child?”

“He is a man now sir,” she said, “Eighteen Summers he should be doing manly things sir, not studying.”

“Chasing comely serving wenches!” I laughed, “Surely that is manly enough, why I heard him talking to his chum ‘Chirpy’ Allen about ravishing a maid only the other evening.”

She looked very uncomfortable.

“I apologise I am embarrassing you,” I admitted, “Is that what is troubling you? That he is interested in young women?”

She looked even more uncomfortable.

“What is it Miss Williams?” I asked gently.

“It is not only young women,” she said awkwardly.

“Oh lock your grandmothers away James is on the prowl!” I laughed, “Or are you trying to say he is a sodomite?”.

Her eyes started watering.

“Oh spit it out girl, does he cavort with men, has he made improper suggestions to you?” I demanded, “What is it?”.

“No, not suggestions,” she said without being able to look me in the eye.

“Then what?” I demanded.

“He ravished me.” she said awkwardly.

“What, touched you improperly, kissed you, what?” I demanded.

“He pushed me down and lifted my gown and,” she said falteringly.

“And what?” I queried.

“Bared me and.” she added.

“For heavens sake, did he touch you or what?” I demanded.

“He lowered his breeches and.” she stuttered.

“And?” I queried.

“His manhood, it was all swollen and purple headed, I tried to resist honestly I did but I could not and.” she stopped again.

“He rammed himself deep in your sopping willing womb?” I queried, “Are you the maid he spoke of. Were you were as he said “Gagging” for it am I right?”

“He told you?” she said in horror.

“No I heard him tell his chum the other evening, well well well,” I laughed, “So it wasn’t a serving maid.”

She shook her head, “I did not encourage him,” she pleaded.

“No and hardly a maid either, Twenty Seven years if I am not mistaken.” I surmised, “And you could not resist?”

“No sir.” she declared, “He forced himself.”

“In to your dry unwilling womb, it must have been agony,|” I taunted, “So why was the entire house not roused by your screams?”

“I didn’t want to make a fuss,” she insisted

“You always resisted my drunken advances,” I reminded her, “Locked the bedroom door, kicked me in the member a few times.”

“That was different you were drunk.” she insisted.

“And had I been sober?” I queried.

“You would have behaved with propriety,” she declared, “It was because you were drunk, you didn’t desire me, any wench would have sated your needs.”

“I fear James feels much the same way about you,” I said apologetically, “Simply a womb to spend his seed in.”

“Not just my womb, my lord.” she added.

“What else?” I demanded.

“Everything!” she said, “He possesses me, he makes me bend over and grasps my bosoms and forces himself.”

“In you back side?” I asked.

“Yes my lord,” she admitted.

“Not just once then?” I queried.

“Almost every night for a month,” she admitted.

“Ah, until you bled,” I surmised.

“But I haven’t my lord, and each morning I feel queasy, I fear.” she said pleadingly.

“Oh Lord, it does rather sound like you are with child, no wonder James disappeared for London post haste,” I sighed.

“What am I to do?” she asked.

“Well I have contacts at the whore house,” I assured her.

“No I cannot be a whore!” she exclaimed.

“Who are adept at having ladies of the night become not with child if you take my meaning,” I explained, “I fear marriage to James is not an option available to us so if the child can be lost or adopted you can quietly resume your duties as a governess for some other family some distance away.”

“And Emily?” she asked.

“Will presumably be quite safe away from your influences,” I declared.

“But safe from James?” she queried.

“Ah,” I agreed, “That could be awkward.”

I thought a moment and asked her “What do you propose?”

“If I could stay until Emily is of age,” she suggested, “And then if you could purchase me an establishment, a guest house or similar, then no one shall know, and I can say my husband died fighting the French?”

“I have only your word that this took place, you might well be still a virgin and out to bamboozle me.” I insisted.

“I assure you sir I am not!” she blustered, her cheeks reddenning.

“Then show me,” I demanded, “Rise your skirts for me as you do for James and let me see.”

“I cannot!” she declared.

“Why not, am I so repulsive?” I queried.

“No, I don’t trust you to restrain you vile lusts sir,” she insisted.

“Good god girl if you are with child it will make little enough difference if I poke you from now to Michaelmas.” I assured her.