The Discipline of the Governess

Chapter One-5

Though she held herself rigid in her throne-like chair, her whole body vibrated tightly with her pleasures. Her face was red now, and her breath came through her snorting nostrils in panting staccato. She bit her lip as from beneath dense, curling lashes she watched his obedient mouth glisten and bubble with the last of the stringy goop she had commanded removed. Her face contorted in joy as she touched herself, secretly and yet known, on and on and on. It was unspeakably beautiful, and, wide-eyed, Edward longed for her rapture never to end. He watched her in awe.

Finally, however, Miss Violetta’s lids fluttered closed and her whole body seemed to go soft. Her determined little chin slumped to her chest. She blinked sleepily, and a quivering little moan escaped her self-possessed lips. She took a ragged breath, and then another. Gradually her breathing slowed, and the wild flush of her face began to subside. “Very good, Master Edward,” she said at last, in a voice blandly casual.

Very slowly, then, he swallowed, very deliberately. “Thank you, Miss,” he whispered then, his poor c**k rampant from his kneeling thighs.

She had slouched down in the chair, and now his governess reached her slender white hands down so that she could push herself back upright again. Her right hand grabbed the heavy arm of her throne, yet the other one chanced to fall directly about the swollen flesh of his agitated erection. His eyes snapped to hers in panic.

Miss Violetta, however, merely smirked as she rolled her hand so that it was palm-up beneath his inflamed member. Then with her right hand and her left elbow she levered herself calmly up in her chair, smiling down upon him in icy silence. With one negligently savage yank of her cool white fist she brought him immediately to orgasm again so that, shuddering, he gasped aloud in gratitude. As she eyed his helpless contortions idly, another load of sperm throbbed out from the purple head of his agonized member and squirted all over the soft underside of her pretty forearm.

She straightened herself matter-of-factly upon the crimson velvet cushion, and before her slender white hand left his reddened flesh, the seemingly unnoticed motion of her tapering fingers squeezed the last drizzles of semen from his embarrassed, shrinking member onto the delicate skin of the inside of her wrist. Holding her left arm casually motionless from the elbow downward, she settled herself comfortably again and then shook out her shining black skirts with her right hand.

As Edward knelt shamefacedly before her, then, she raised her left hand up for his inspection. Her pale skin glistened with the spattered globules of his second ejaculation. “Edward?” she said mildly.

“Y-y-yes, Miss?” he answered with trepidation.

“I believe you missed a spot.” She turned her left hand over, and as he watched, she let the thinning spunk drizzle onto the fingertips of her right hand—digits which, he noticed suddenly, already had been moist and shining from the exploration of her own body. She thrust the fingers under his nose.

Edward breathed deep, licking his lips. Those slender feminine fingertips reeked of the tangy odor of her forbidden s*x, salty and wet and fishy. She was all slippery down there, he realized again, shamelessly wet with her own excitation—and hairy, so wildly hairy that he had heard the rasp of her pretty fingertips sliding through those shining black curls! Oh, how she had touched herself! Shuddering, he opened his mouth without a word.

Smiling benevolently, Miss Violetta pushed her fingers between her charge’s reverent lips, and she watched as he sucked off the mingled sperm and cunt-juices, helplessly. Edward licked and smacked at the terrible treat, sucking his own ejaculate from those soft, taunting fingers which, scarcely hidden by the folds of her skirt, had m*********d so close before his wondering face.

“Thank you, Miss,” he moaned helplessly, “thank you!”

“Think nothing of it, my lad,” she said evenly. “It truly is my pleasure to enforce the proper conduct.” Her dark eyes never left his ravenous lips. She watched him taste her in his helpless need.

When finally he could no longer pretend that he had any reason to keep sucking at the desperately intimate comfort of those smelly, thrilling white young fingers, she commanded him to stand. “I dare say that was all the dinner a disobedient little masturbator such as yourself needs tonight,” she said wryly.

“Very well, Miss,” he whispered. Even with the bitter taste of his own semen in the corrugations of his tongue, still he could sense the salty tang of the vaginal lubrication he had licked from his governess’s fingers. Helplessly he savored it.

“Unless,” she said with a teasing menace, “you are still hungry for more…?”

Edward blanched. Suddenly the thought of having to do all of that once more was indeed profoundly arousing. He could not admit it, however—unless, he thought in dismay that was what she wanted him to do again. If he tried to oppose her will, that was disobedience. And yet so, too, would be to crave some perversion that she had planned as punishment rather than pleasure. The poor boy knew not what to say, when either answer might be an impertinent misstep. “Wh-whatever the mistress prefers,” he replied finally.

“Yes,” she said slowly, “indeed…” She looked him up and down appraisingly as he stood biting his lip. “And Edward?” she wondered lightly. “One question before you scurry off to bed.”

“Yes, Miss?” he replied, acutely conscious that the shriveled meat of his frightened manhood hung before her face.

“After this lesson,” she asked quietly, “you would not dare to disobey me by m**********g again tonight, would you?”

“Why, n-no, Miss!” he exclaimed automatically. And yet, despite himself, his deflated organ twitched restlessly at the thought. His poor flesh was so tired that he had not even imagined touching himself again—but Miss Violetta’s words suddenly burned in his brain. How he longed to worship this alluring, commanding young lady!

Miss Violetta stared at him for a long time, and his reluctant p***s grew once more, red and throbbing. Soon it stood pointing directly at her impassive face. Given the chance, he wondered, what sensual outrages would he not commit for her? Why, his roiling balls would churn up a pint of sperm daily if that was what proper worship required. If he merited a paddling, if he must kneel humbly and kiss the polished tips of her many-buttoned black boots, if he was forced to gulp the soupy mess of his own ejaculate from her desirable young body—why, that was a small price, was it not? And as he satisfied himself under her loving punishment, he knew now, so would she please herself as well…

The corner of Miss Violetta’s red lips curled up as his purpled cockhead throbbed bare inches before her, its tip glistening. “To prevent such disobedience,” she told him idly, as if not noticing the reaction of his flesh, “some believe in sending a boy to bed with coarse mittens on his hands, or with pajamas sewn together every night. That, however, as you may gather, is not my philosophy. Merely removing temptation is not the way to train discipline.”

“Of course, Miss,” he agreed. His tongue twitched within his mouth as he thought suddenly of the taste of her fingertips, of the wet musky smell she had rubbed up from the very center of her soft young body. Did she long for that as much as he did? he wondered wildly. How he craved already the sound of the secret, slippery squelch which meant that she was satisfying herself again before him! Apparently she herself knew all too well the secret pleasures of the flesh, and she liked to do the things to herself that he himself did in the night—and yet whereas he was sneaking and shamefaced, this beautiful, stern, fabulously commanding young lady thought nothing of teasing and torturing his helplessly agitated flesh at the very same time that she m*********d right in his face. Oh, how he craved again the scent of her juices, and another dollop of the musky evidence of her excitation smeared across his tongue!

“You, therefore, will sleep naked from now on,” Miss Violetta said with a self-possessed little smile.

“Yes, Miss,” said Edward, wide-eyed. Oh, when she knew of his sensual propensities, how could this lady command such a thing? Surely this governess knew how his poor flesh would respond! Yes, he realized, as he looked down into that cool porcelain face, she knew, she knew…

“Your sleeping quarters have been moved right next to mine,” she added gloatingly, “so that it will be easy for me to monitor your every movement. I will check in on you as often as seems necessary.”

“Yes, Miss,” he whispered. He felt her soft breath upon the quivering skin of his inflamed cockhead. His pulse beat heavily beneath his belly as he imagined lying there naked all night long, restless and excited, knowing that she was in the very next room, white and slender and beautiful, alluring and yet sneeringly forbidden all at once. Oh, the sweet torment! Surely any time that his stern governess might chance to look in, his poor organ would be erect with the lusts of his forbidden desires. And yet if ever he tried to relieve the terrible pressures building within himself, certainly she would come in and watch him, and then she would punish him, and make him perform, and do all of the secret things that she needed…

“Go to bed, boy,” she ordered finally, with a faint smirk, “and we shall see how you obey your governess.”

“Yes, Miss,” he replied. He almost asked if he could pull his clothing up, but then he thought better of it. Her discipline was very firm, he knew, and he had no wish to anger her again.

As he shuffled away with his trousers around his ankles, his new erection jiggling before him, Edward heard her calm, mocking voice add, “Sleep well, Master Edward. Rest assured that I will be checking upon you later tonight, most thoroughly…”