by Stanlegh Meresith
Hertfordshire, England. 1st May 1933
Lady Catherine Woolacott replaced her teacup on its saucer. "Such a pity," she sighed. "And so sudden!"
It was a refrain with which Miss Grimley, governess to young Georgiana Woolacott, had grown familiar since announcing her departure earlier in the week. "No less a pity for me, your ladyship," she repeated, "but sadly it cannot be helped."
"Yes, yes, I know - your aunt. It's unfortunate that her sudden illness has occurred just when Sir Algernon has been posted abroad. It's most inconvenient. And Georgiana, of course, is quite desolate."
"I am aware," said Miss Grimley quietly.
Her Ladyship chuckled. "Which is a very far cry from her attitude when you joined us! Do you remember?"
The hint of a smile lifted the corners of the governess' mouth. "How could I forget, your Ladyship."
"She was a monster, and I really must congratulate you again, Miss Grimley, on the marvellous job you've done. Which, of course..." She sighed again, "makes your departure all the more hard to bear. What am I to do?"
Miss Grimley looked down.
"You're packed and ready?"
"Yes. And thank you for releasing Arthur to drive me to the station."
A brief knock at the drawing room door heralded the appearance of an attractive young woman dressed in white cotton blouse, grey jodhpurs and black boots. In her right hand she held a riding crop, its tip resting jauntily on her shoulder.
"If you've finished your goodbyes, Mama, then perhaps I could have a few moments for my own...?" Her eyes flashed as she added haughtily, "If, that is, Miss Grimley isn't too busy?"
Flushing at her daughter's rudeness, Lady Woolacott was about to remonstrate when the governess stood abruptly and addressed the young woman.
"I shall come to you in the tack room presently, Georgiana," she said. "If, that is, you can contain your impatience?"
The girl blushed. Tapping the crop impatiently against the side of her boot, she retreated into the hall.
Miss Grimley turned to the mother. "What was that you were saying about a marvellous job, your Ladyship?"
Lady Woolacott smiled. "We must forgive some parting petulance." She held out her hand. "Goodbye, Miss Grimley. I do hope your aunt recovers."
"Thank you, but I fear it may be a long illness. Goodbye, your Ladyship." They shook hands, and the governess made her exit.
Noting that her cases - including the leather holdall containing her disciplinary implements - remained by the front door where she'd left them, she went through to the back of the house and out into the large yard, beyond which lay the stables and tack room.
"So, young lady," she said, silhouetted in the doorway, arms akimbo. Her sandy blonde hair glinted in the afternoon light. "You decided to embarrass me on my last day, did you?"
Georgiana pouted. "I don't understand why you have to leave. Is your old aunt really more important than me?" Her face crumpled. "Oh, please don't go, Miss Grimley, please don't!" Her beseeching eyes spilled tears.
The governess came forward and placed her hands on Georgiana's shoulders. "You know very well why I must leave. I've explained many times." She stepped back. "But how dare you be so rude in front of your mother?" The sudden fierceness of tone drew a half-frightened, half-excited gasp from the girl. She stared longingly up into the stern, brown eyes and shivered.
"I'm sorry, ma'am."
"Give me the crop and bend over your saddle."
Georgiana held out the crop with both hands, a supplicant offering the means of her own chastisement, and bowed her head. Clutching her hands together nervously at her front, she turned and made her way to the trestle over which the saddle was draped.
Tucking the crop under her arm, Miss Grimley went to the door and turned the large iron key in the lock. A beam of sunlight shone through the window above, forming a convenient spotlight on Georgiana's upturned bottom. Her shapely young buttocks were outlined to perfection by the tightly stretched cotton twill of her jodhpurs.
Miss Grimley ran the length of the crop across the palm of her left hand then swished the air loudly. Georgiana jerked, expecting the first blow, then relaxed again with a sigh.
"Further over," barked the governess. "I want that naughty little bottom right up on high."
"Yes, ma'am." Georgiana shifted her grip down the legs of the trestle and wriggled forward till her toes barely touched the dusty floor.
"That's better." Rubbing the leather tongue at the end of the crop between thumb and forefinger while she considered her target, Miss Grimley took up position and raised her arm.
Thwapp! Thwapp!
The strokes were swift and firm, scorching the centre of each cheek in turn. Georgiana gasped, wriggling her hips as if the sudden, stinging fire could somehow be shaken away.
The crop whipped down twice more, harder this time, finding different spots to torment. Despite the scissoring legs and tossing head, the girl emitted no more than a grunt at each stroke.
Adjusting her grip on the handle of the crop, Miss Grimley raised it higher still, twisting her torso to bring greater power to her swing.
THWAPP! THWAPP!
Each stroke cracked as leather met cotton-clad flesh, and this time Georgiana couldn't suppress a high-pitched squeal. Her right hand flew back to soothe the side of her buttock where the leather tongue had licked her most cruelly.
"Oh no you don't!" snapped Miss Grimley, slapping the hand away. "I've taught you better than that." She stepped round to stand astride Georgiana's head and shoulders and, from this vertical position, dealt a series of rapid blows to the girl's lower cheeks and upper thighs.
"Ow! Ouch! Yee-ow!" Georgiana's cries grew increasingly urgent before the governess stepped away and tossed the riding crop aside.
"Stand up."
Georgiana groaned. It took her several seconds to respond to the command. Once she'd risen, her hands hovered at her hips, agonisingly adjacent to her burning buttocks but not permitted to touch.
Miss Grimley stood before her, arms akimbo once more. "Bare your bottom," she said, noting with pleasure the blush that suffused the girl's cheeks at the command.
Georgiana's hands trembled as she undid the buttons of her jodhpurs. When the side was open and the waist loosened, she paused, her blush deepening.
"Well?" said Miss Grimley. "Get on with it, girl!"
Looking away, Georgiana hurriedly lowered them to her knees.
"Ah-ha!" Miss Grimley chuckled. "I might have known. No underwear - and today of all days!"
Georgiana looked up, the expression on her face a curious mixture of embarrassment, fear and longing. She nodded.
"Very well," said Miss Grimley. "Then I shall reward you in a manner befitting." She went to the wall by the door. Taking down a dressage whip that hung there from a bracket, she said, "You will be soundly whipped."
Georgiana let out a squeak of dismay, covering her buttocks protectively. But she made no objection.
Swishing the rapier-thin whip through the air, Miss Grimley returned to inspect the results of her efforts with the riding crop: the flesh was a patchwork of reds and mauves, with the rectangular outline of the crop's tongue discernible in the overlapping marks on her thighs and the sides of her cheeks.
"Get over the saddle."
Shuffling forward with the tiny steps allowed by the jodhpurs round her knees, Georgiana laid herself over the seat of the shiny brown leather, the pommel to her left, and reached down to grasp the legs of the trestle once more. Then, without waiting to be told, she wriggled forward so that her bottom was uppermost, her toes barely reaching the ground.
"Good girl," muttered Miss Grimley. She stepped back and aligned the end of the whip with the far side of Georgiana's bottom. Tapping gently, she said, "These stripes may last only a week or so, Miss Woolacott, but I trust that my teachings will stay with you forever."
She brought the whip down firmly across the crown of Georgiana's bottom. As the girl shrieked, the vivid white line across her reddened cheeks blushed to an angry scarlet. Miss Grimley watched as the thin weal rose, allowing Georgiana time to embrace the stinging pain before delivering the next stroke.
What followed was not quite the harshest punishment the young aristocrat had suffered at the hands of her beloved governess, but it was a whipping delivered with such patience, and with such careful attention to the limit of the girl's tolerance, that Georgiana thought of it afterwards as a perfect example of that meeting of insolent courage and cruel love which had defined their relationship.
So lost was she in the depths of submission and pain that she failed to register when the whipping had ended. What eventually caught her attention was the sound of wheels on gravel and a motorcar setting off down the drive. She rose and turned to the open door in dismay.
Her governess was gone!
Letter from Alice Abercrombie to her cousin Georgiana Woolacott, dated May 4th, 1933
Cranhurst Hall
Near Dunstan
Kent
Dearest Georgiana,
Thank you so much for your very detailed letter! It left me quite amazed, and also rather confused. It sounds so utterly beastly being spanked like that (and yes, I know 'spanked' is hardly the right word) and yet the way you describe how you feel while your Miss Grimley is punishing you - and how sore you are afterwards, but also how strangely contented - I can almost imagine it being as exciting as you say. She does sound terrifying, but so very intriguing as well. Not a bit like our Lily.
But before I go on, I must protest most bitterly. How could you doubt me like that? Haven't we always shared our closest secrets? How you feel about Miss Grimley and her spankings is the best secret there's ever been between us, and I promise you it's totally safe with me. Full stop. Meanwhile, I look forward to meeting your remarkable governess, either here or in Hertfordshire, and I shall definitely be on my best behaviour!
Big news here meanwhile: Miss Lilywell has been dismissed. Dear old Lily! Can you believe it? A new governess is being advertised for, and she's bound to be a lot less amenable, I'm afraid. Who knows? We might end up getting spanked as well, though it's hard to imagine Lizzie letting that happen!
Lily going was all Lizzie's fault, of course, though I suppose I must take some of the blame, if only because I went along with her hare-brained pranks. Father was not pleased when he returned from town last week and Stevens informed him of our latest "devilry", as he called it. Even though Lily made us write a very long apology, Papa decided enough was enough - she's no longer the right person for the job. He's too busy with his books and meetings to bother with us himself, so he says we'll be getting a new, stricter governess.
At first, my heart sank, but then I thought of you and your Miss Grimley and I wondered if it might not be a good thing. It's tiring keeping up with Lizzie, and sometimes I feel ashamed of the pranks we play. She wasn't like this before Mama died. Nor was I, come to think of it. And to be fair to Father, I think he's been even sadder than we have, which may be why he hides away in his study so much.
Anyway, must rush. Lizzie sends her love.
Promise you'll write again soon with more about your Miss Grimley. Can't wait.
Your loving cousin,
Alice
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