By Governess
liviaarbuthnot1@gmail.com
Copyright 2025 by Governess, all rights reserved
[2,025 words]
* * * * *
Chapter 79
As Cordelia lay in
bed, the memory suddenly came back to her of the time she had babysat
for a boy in the village. He was a strong-willed six-year-old and more
than a match for most girls of her age even with the threat of a sound
spanking promised by his mother on her return if he had misbehaved.
However, most young girls were reluctant to report his bad behaviour
and lacked the confidence to punish him themselves. The consequence was
that his mother found it increasingly difficult to find girls willing
to babysit such a difficult boy. It had been Mrs Atkinson, their
next-door neighbour, who had suggested Cordelia might be willing to
help out. The mother’s boy was a Mrs Hansen, who was Mrs Atkinson’s
sister. Cordelia’s mother and Mrs Atkinson were close, and the latter
knew that Cordelia was often left in charge of her younger brother and
had permission to spank him. It seemed to Mrs Atkinson that Cordelia
might very well agree to babysit her sister’s six-year-old and might
even welcome doing so. It was arranged that Mrs Hansen should meet
Cordelia to discuss that possibility.
“The trouble, Cordelia,
is that most girls of your age are too soft with the boy. Some have
never experienced real discipline themselves, and those that have are
reluctant to take responsibility for getting him into trouble. He
knows, that with me, if there’s the slightest hint of disobedience
there’s a spanking awaiting him at bedtime on his bare bottom. But once
out of the straightjacket of my discipline, and facing a soft young
girl, he just can’t help misbehaving. So, what is needed is a
babysitter with a bit of backbone. One who’s prepared to take a
hairbrush to his bare bottom. Marie tells me your mother is happy to
leave you in charge of your younger brother and trusts you to
discipline him. Is that right?”
“Yes, Mrs Hansen. Marcel is six years younger than me and I’m allowed to spank him”
Mrs Hansen smiled.
“And you find that easy?”
“Oh, yes. I'm told to give him a dozen with the hairbrush on his bare bottom and to double that if he’s seriously naughty.”
Mrs Hansen smiled.
“I think you rather enjoy spanking Marcel, don’t you? “
Cordelia flushed and looked down.
“Yes, perhaps I do rather.”
“I’m sure you do. As I enjoy spanking Robert. It’s nothing to be
ashamed of or worried about. Boys need spanking. If it wasn’t so
enjoyable, they’d be spanked far less than they need.”
She gave a little frown.
“So, the question is, would you be willing to babysit Robert whose six and spank him if he misbehaves.”
Cordelia experienced a delicious expectant breathlessness, just as when she was going to spank Marcel.
“Yes, Mrs Hansen, I’d be more than happy to do that.”
She looked across to a shelf where a hairbrush was sitting.
“Is that the hairbrush I’d be spanking him with?”
Mrs Hansen stepped over to the shelf and picked it up, smacking it across the palm of her hand.
“Yes. I find its wooden oval back excellent for spanking Robert's bare bottom, and I’m sure you will, too.”
She handed it to Cordelia.
“I probably don’t need to tell you, but a spanking needs to be long and
hard if it’s going to do any good. But because a boy’s bottom is so
wonderfully full and heavy, it can be given with no risk of real harm.
He’ll wriggle and squirm and give ear piercing screams, but that is
only to be expected.”
“When my mother told Marcel that I
would be spanking him, she warned him that I would be punishing him
with her authority, and if he resisted or fought me, on her return she
would take the skin of his bottom.”
“My goodness! And did she?”
“Yes, Mrs Hansen, she did. With a birch. And still does. That’s if I
report him. But, I think it’s only natural for a boy to reach back or
wriggle about to try and escape the smack of the brush. I know how
painful it is. So, I tell him to stop and if he obeys, then I don’t
think it’s fair to report him. But if he refuses, or if he argues with
me, or is really rejecting my authority, then I do report him.”
“And then he has the skin taken off his bottom?”
“Yes, he's birched. My mother ties him to a long padded stool and he’s
swished across his bare bottom, which, of course, has already been
spanked. And she doesn’t stop until the skin's worn away and his bottom
‘s covered with red moist weals. Afterwards, he finds sitting on a
kitchen chair at meals really painful, and even his clothes’ rubbing
against his bottom, uncomfortable.”
“So would you expect me to do something similar for Robert?”
“I’m not sure, Mrs Hansen. But it might be a good idea to make him
realise that if I spank him it is with your authority and if he resists
me, he has you to answer to.”
“Yes, I’m sure that’s right. But tell me, Cordelia, when your mother birches Marcel, do you watch?”
“Yes. My mother says that’s only right as it’s me he’s defied. And the shame is good for him.”
Mrs Hansen nodded.
“I sent Robert to his room so we could have our discussion without him.
But if you are going to babysit him, you need to meet him.”
She went into the hall and called up the stairs.
Robert was small for his age, with a slightly sullen look. Mrs Hansen
indicated that I should take the conversation forward. I smiled at the
boy reassuringly.
“So you are Robert. Has your mother explained why I am here?”
“No.”
“Well, my name is Cordelia Lavington. You may address me as Miss Cordelia. I am to be your new babysitter.”
“But I don’t need a new babysitter. Henrietta is my babysitter.”
“Henrietta was your babysitter, but she does not want to be your
babysitter any longer. And do you know why that is, Robert? Because she
is tired of your bad behaviour. And as I am rather good at dealing with
naughty boys’ bad behaviour, I am going to be your babysitter from now
on.”
I sat on a chair and beckoned him to me. He came
reluctantly with an angry look on his face. I put my arm around him,
and felt the stiffness and resistance in his body.
“The sad thing, Robert, is that you know how to behave.”
I gave him a squeeze.
“And that is because your mother has taught you the difference between good and bad behaviour. And how has she done that?”
He shrugged.
“I don’t know.”
“Then let me give you a clue. If you look over there you will see a hairbrush on the table. What is that used for?”
Again, he gave an insolent shrug of his shoulders.
“And I am sure your mother has taught you that it is rude to shrug when
asked a question. So, let us try again. What is that hairbrush used for
when you are naughty or disobedient?”
He looked down.
“For spanking me.”
“Yes, Robert. For spanking you. So let me ask you a number of questions
and please answer them honestly and without shrugging or scowling.”
“What happens if you tell a lie?”
He bit his lip.
“I’m spanked.”
“Yes. Spanked by your mother.”
“And if you are rude, to her or to any grown up, what happens?”
“I’m spanked.”
“Yes. Spanked by your mother.”
“And if she asks you to clear your toys away and you don’t do as she asks, what happens?”
He was beginning to cry now.
“I . . . I’m spanked.”
“Yes. spanked by your mother. And if you are told not to play by the river, and you play by the river, what happens to you?”
“I . . . I . . . I’m spanked.”
“Yes. spanked by your mother. And if you throw a tantrum and roll
screaming on the floor because you didn’t get your own way, what
happens?”
“I’m spanked.”
“Yes. spanked by your mother.”
So what happens when you’re naughty and Henrietta is looking after? Does she spank you?”
“No.”
“Not at all? “
“No, never.”
I could see that he was quite upset by my questioning. I lifted him up and sat him on my lap.
“You see, Robert, your mother has gone to all the trouble of correcting
you when you are naughty, so you could learn to be a good boy. But when
Henrietta is babysitting you can be a very naughty boy. But she doesn’t
spank you and so you continue to be a naughty boy whenever she is
babysitting you.”
I gave him a squeeze.
“ So what you need, Robert, is a babysitter who is prepared to spank you, just as your mother does.”
I paused.
“And that is what I will be doing.”
He was crying now, angry, defiant tears and trying to wriggle free.
“Stop struggling and listen to me, Robert.”
I dug my thumb nail into the lobe of his ear.
“I said stop struggling and listen to me. I am taking the place of
Henrietta because your mother trusts me to spank you every time you
misbehave.”
He was breathing heavily and panting with emotion at this unwelcome turn of events.
“So let us go through those questions again, Robert. And this time the
answer I want to hear each time is ‘Miss Cordelia will spank me’
“So, Robert, what will happen if you lie when I am babysitting you?”
I waited, but he sullenly remained silent.
“Then, I need to show you what will happen.”
She remembered how she had set him down, eased up her skirt, and stood
him between her legs. Reaching round, she had unbuttoned his trousers,
slipped them down, together with his underpants, and in a moment, he
was over her knee and the hairbrush was being handed to her by his
mother. Cordelia glanced at Mrs Hansen who smiled, registering her
approval.
As a younger girl she had eagerly watched her
brothers disciplined and then later in bed had recollected their
suffering with a mounting excitement far removed from the tranquillity
of Wordsworth's recollection of those dancing daffodils. Cordelia’s
recollection was accompanied by her writhing and gasping with pleasure
as she stroked and fingered herself to a final throaty scream of
fulfilment. But glorious though that was, perhaps even more satisfying
was actually whipping the boy herself. And she remembered vividly that
first spanking given to Robert. That it was administered with his
mother’s watching must have added considerably to the boy’s discomfort;
and for Cordelia it was an opportunity to prove that she was more than
up to the task for which she was being appointed. At the commencement,
Mrs Hansen had indicated her approval and as the spanking proceeded, it
was clear that she had no qualms or reservations about the severity of
the punishment that Cordelia was inflicting.
Although
Cordelia was permitted to spank Marcel, this was subject to her
mother’s direction, and surprisingly she was unwilling for Cordelia
either to use the cane or to spank her eleven year old brother with the
severity that his sister believed was merited. So, Mrs Hansen’s
granting Cordelia complete freedom to discipline Robert in whatever way
she judged appropriate was eagerly accepted and acted upon. That Robert
was some five years younger than Marcel was also to be welcomed. He
could be held over her knee with relative ease and all her attention
could be focused on his small pale buttocks, and turning them into a
burning crimson that would instil a permanent dread of her babysitting
him again. She smiled at these recollections.
But why had
this memory been stirred up and come to the surface? And then she
realised that Robert with his head of brown curly hair and his good
looks was a younger version of Michael Clough whom, along with Diana,
she was to flog tomorrow.