Assisting The Governess

I've been intending to document this short episode in my life for some time and I was prompted finally to do so because of a conversation with J. I'm not writing this with any particular erotic intention, merely to set down the story as I recall it.

In the late 1970s I came into contact, socially, with a Dutch lady who was a kind of professional Domme and was known as 'The Governess'. She was a large woman, not especially tall but with huge breasts and big hips, long flowing blond hair which should have looked out of place on someone her age, but which went perfectly well with her gregarious personality and the long kaftans which she always wore. She was a dramatic figure and if she had passed by, you would certainly have looked twice.

She made it clear that she had taken something of a fancy to me but I had to disappoint her. Although my appearance might have suggested otherwise, I was never (well, almost never) the submissive type and, anyway, I didn't feel any sexual chemistry for her. Nevertheless, she intrigued me, as much for her 'profession' as for her personality.

I'm glad to say she accepted very readily that I wasn't interested in being her plaything but I'm sure she realised that dark desires had been aroused in my mind. To get to the essence of this story, I think it was an unspoken conspiracy between us that led to me taking part in some of her professional appointments. First of all, I'll give you an overview, and then I'll tell you about one in particular.

It started out with me being an observer which was intended to add to the humiliation factor that was important for some of her clients. She called herself a disciplinarian and her clients came to be spanked, flogged and/or caned. Sometimes she would instruct them to jerk-off for her and sometimes she would do it for them. They were all well-heeled, middle-aged men.

The first time I witnessed one of these sessions my head went to places it had never been before. I'd had various spanking experiences, giving and taking, all of them playful, but this was serious. It wasn't brutal (I wouldn't have liked that at all) but those guys went away with very sore backsides, to say the least, and that is exactly what they paid for. At the beginning, I can't say that it was a turn-on for me; I felt a little uncomfortable and it was more confusing than erotic. At the same time, I knew that I was involved in something very intimate and compelling.

After a short time things progressed, I started to understand what was happening and felt more comfortable with it. Sometimes I became involved in some role-play where I was an assistant or serving girl. I would wear something very flimsy and be asked to pass The Governess her various implements of punishment. There would be lots of by-play about deciding which implement should be used and I would have to give my advise as to what was appropriate.

Later, I 'graduated' to being her trainee so that I would deliver a little of the punishment under her guidance. It was usually the case that I didn't hit hard enough and would then be given a demonstration of how it should be done properly.

This whole episode went on for around 6 months and I must have been involved in some 30 sessions. I was offered money for my participation but I declined; instead I was allowed to talk with the clients at the end of their sessions if they agreed to do so.

The Governess lived in an old house which you might describe as rustic. There were creaking floorboards, walls which needed painting, old furniture and strange pot-plants - somehow it suited her.

One of the rooms was her study and that is where she did business. Against one wall was a large wooden table upon which her tools of the trade were laid out - an assortment of canes, whips, floggers, straps and paddles. In one corner was an old leather covered contraption which looked like something rescued from my old school gymnasium. There were various chairs, a couple of tall stools and a low divan.

My visits were usually arranged with a phone call on the previous day; there was a client who was happy to have someone else in attendance and could I make it.

I remember one man very well although I only sat-in on one of his sessions. He was perhaps in his 50's, very smartly dressed and had a full head of silver-grey hair.

The Governess sat in an armchair and I was seated some way behind her on one of the tall stools. The man stood before her with his hands clasped in front of him and his eyes darted continuously in my direction. It was quite surrealistic to see such a distinguished man in such a humble posture.

The Governess asked him how many times he had masturbated since his last visit. He answered in a very low voice that it was 15 or 20 but wasn't sure. She then set about chastising him in a way that sounded even more stern than it was on account of her Dutch accent. The essence of her displeasure was that he had masturbated without her permission.

If it had been my first experience, I wouldn't have known where to look. As it was, realising full well that he was paying for and enjoying this treatment, I just smiled impassively.

When she had finished with her tongue lashing she ordered him to strip and he quickly complied, stacking his clothes on one of the chairs. Standing there naked and helpless, though not in bad shape for his age, I was very surprised to see what I thought was a little less than a flaccid dick.

The Governess told him to stand by the wall and place his hands up against it. She then began to spank him with her hand and continued the verbal chastisement. From time to time she would reach between his legs and stroke his dick but warning him not to get stiff. I don't think she was hitting him so hard though he was getting quite a rosy glow. This went on for maybe 10 minutes and then she abruptly brought it to an end. She told him he was enjoying it too much and sure enough, when he turned around, his dick was noticeably swollen though not fully erect. He caught my eye and then quickly looked away.

Up to that point it had been quite sexual but then things got more serious. She ordered him to the corner of the room and had him bend over the old gym equipment. She spent a lot of time talking about how she was deciding on his punishment, first whacking him with a strap, then a paddle, then another strap and finally back to the first strap. Of course, it was all part of her script but she was a great performer.

There was no play-acting when she started to beat him though. The crack of the strap on his buttocks was amazingly loud and he was glowing bright red in no time. With other clients, she would usually move from the strap to a cane but with this one she kept the punishment short and sharp.

When she was finished with the strap she led him to the divan and had him lie face down. I was asked to bring a bottle of baby oil from the table and she used it to massage his sore rump. It was the first time I'd seen her do this and I knew there would be more to come. Sure enough, she had him turn over and began to work on his dick. It was very hot to watch him grow in her hands but then I got a surprise. She looked at me and asked me to lift my skirt and show him my pussy. I suppose I could have refused if I'd really wanted but I felt compelled to go along.

The man had propped himself on his elbows, The Governess was sitting beside him, jerking his dick and alternating her attention between me and him, and I was at the end of the bed with my skirt around my waist, panties pulled to one side, my fingers sliding through a very moist slit. It might sound like a porno movie but at the time it was a natural progression of events.

I could have brought myself to a climax but I was used to putting on a show and keeping things under control. The Governess was very expert with her hands and kept the man on the edge, with a lot of gasps and moans, for quite a while. When finally he popped I think he was quite exhausted.

The man was one of those who agreed to talk to me when it was all over. He was very articulate and echoed what I'd heard from several others: the anticipation of the session was intensely erotic and it was difficult if not impossible to concentrate on anything else for days in advance; when it was over, there was a feeling of freedom and lightness as if life could begin again; for days afterwards, the memory of the session was a huge sexual stimulus; and he said something else -- that he felt as if someone actually cared for him.

I would not want to demean any of these men in any way; in fact I quite admired them. Their particular desires were non-harmful to others and they'd had the nerve to pursue their own kind of satisfaction.

Although The Governess was a great performer I'm quite sure she was doing it for reasons other than the money. In a rare quiet and reflective moment she told me that someone needed to take care of these guys and it may as well be her. I think she saw herself more as a social worker than a dom and it was as if it was part of her mission in life.

The sessions I saw always followed a similar pattern but no two were exactly the same. She seemed to have an instinct for what was required and it was only much later that I realised what she was doing -- it was about building rapport.

I don't think she had any great sexual payback from what she did though she once said that she loved the feel of a man's cock in her hands. She had a couple of female clients but unfortunately I was never invited to those sessions. Perhaps that was more of a turn-on for her -- I suspect it might have been,. Certainly for me, one of the greatest pleasures has been to spank the nicely shaped bottom of a willing lady, but nothing to do with punishment.

As for my own participation, there is nothing to regret. I had more than a glimpse into things which many would regard as highly perverse but I gained some understanding of the dynamics of it all. Mostly I was a passive bystander somewhere in that grey area between intimacy and dissociation. I was never touched physically and it was not a problem to let The Governess offer her clients a view of my bits and pieces as a kind of reward.

On the few occasions I participated in the punishment itself, I have to admit that there was a certain satisfaction in landing a nice whack of a strap on an already sore bottom but it was one of those crazy dichotomies because I didn't want to really cause pain.

This chapter came to an end for a combination of reasons, mainly because other things were happening in my life, but also because I felt I had gone as far as I wanted. Later, I got calls from The Governess because some of her clients had asked for my presence and in particular the man with the silver-grey hair had offered quite a large sum of money. I wasn't tempted to respond. Soon afterwards The Governess became disillusioned with life in South Africa and returned to Holland.