Mother’s New Governess Ch. 02

Harry paused in the bath for a moment and took in the view before him, and what a view it was! Edwina Cory for her thirty-seven years on this earth was a splendid specimen of a woman and looked younger than she was. She had lovely brown 'mooning eyes' that seemed bigger than they really were. Her exquisitely high cheekbones combined with prominent dimples, a tiny nose (and that's not to mention a bee-stung pouty-pout), provided a face below a mane of long raven-black curls that immediately commanded the interest and attention of anyone who saw her, (male or female).

She was a tall woman although not as tall as her towering thirty-eight-year-old sister Lucy. Edwina also had (despite her generous round hips and bum set atop her long slender legs), a teensy-tiny tum-tum segment that was testament to what a good tight corset and a little self-denial (combined with long walks and vigorous riding), could accomplish on the female form.

Her most prominent features were her breasts. They were to be perfectly clear a bit on the large side of things to be perfectly clear, (in fact at first sight of her milky 'cats-heads' one might consider Edwina to be most well-endowed). Harry now suspected that 'lion noggins' might be a far better description of the pair as they jutted and bulged; seeming to stare back at him with their doubloon like areolas and red bon-bon nipples poking up as if to say, 'Good morning... a bit cold in here isn't it?'

To Harry, she was easily the most delectable morsel he could think of feasting upon. She was all motherly flesh and curves, with legs and udders and sighs attached. More than just sexual desire to him, she represented cooing comfort and a tender loving means by which to shuck off the cocoon of his adolescence while embracing his transformation into a man.

Oh yes, he desperately wanted her despite of the inherent incestuous wrongfulness of it all (and OH YES it felt so terribly wrong... it really did), but then again; he'd longed to have this happen for such a very very long time and it turns out his mummy had been so willing all along. His conscience and lust wrestled inside his head as Mummy winked at him; bringing one of her bee-stung nipples to her pouty lips for a good sucky-wuck.

RIGHT! Judgment be damned; if this was all wrong, then what was the point of being a moral soul? No one but Auntie knew, and she wasn't about to tell anyone, (after what vileness she'd just done to him)!

So much for his 'conscience'; it seemed 'lust' had been far more skilled as a wrestler, (and when 'opportunism' 'rationalism' and 'denial' entered the fray on lust's side, well dear readers it simply wasn't a fair fight)!

He shot one more look over his shoulder at Auntie Lucy behind him. She was frigging away with vigor at her little oyster pearl atop its pink grotto; running that lewd tongue over her lips in voyeuristic anticipation. That normally stern expression of hers was gone and replaced by a lusty visage; catlike brown eyes atop high cheek bones, a fine slender nose, full luscious lips; all stacked atop a slightly more angular chin than Mummy's.

Lucy's face was beautiful but unlike Mummy's beauty (which made one simply wish to melt), Auntie's look was that of gorgeous confidence that bordered on arrogance. She was a handsome woman who could easily seduce and manipulate, (that is... when she wasn't a complete terror).

Like Mummy, Auntie Lucy was a raven haired towering woman (the taller of the two as I mentioned earlier), with long deer-like legs but her shape was less rounded than Mum's 'milk-maid' form. Her slender middle sat atop an arse best described as a valentine flipped upside down. Her breasts (although not as huge as Mummy's), were like plump gourds with lovely little bon-bon nubs for nipples. She smiled, nodding her head in her sister's direction in an encouraging yet unspoken sort of,

"Well boy... get at it! C'mon!"

Harry turned and was just about to help his mummy with a bit of 'spit and polish' (as any dutiful son really should do under such circumstances), when the rub 'n scrub in the back o' the tub activities were interrupted by door to the bath coming open. He was actually in 'mid lurch' in sort of a crouching ducky-walk and the intrusion startled him terribly. It was as if he'd just been caught by the school master doing an illicit bit of mischief, and he simply panicked. He slipped and fell back onto his bum with a resounding KA-SPLASH! (whacking his noggin against the tub's edge in the process).

As to why he'd panicked, Harry wasn't exactly sure. I suspect dear readers that despite all the naughtiness that had happened betwixt him and Auntie Lucy under his mum's 'supervision'; he was still English, still a gentleman in this house, and as still quite naked! It was also still 1875 and you don't simply "undo" eighteen years of uptight British suppression of urges, appetites, and passions in one go (no matter how 'libertine' Mummy and Auntie's practices)!

He also wasn't sure just who in the household should know about 'this sort of thing,' for that matter. There was a danger of this getting out and you must remember; Queen 'Vicki' was STILL on the throne and her example was felt everywhere. He doubted seriously she'd approve!

The result was he had an instantaneous attack of modesty, tried to get as low as possible in the bath, and had the misfortune of stepping on the bar of soap somewhere in the steamy water. The wretched little cake shot out from under his foot like a greased ball from a twelve-pounder artillery piece. The rest was all 'crash and splash,' I'm afraid!

Now he lay on partially on his side in the churned up water, one foot up in the air over the rim of the bath and the other bent around him at a wicked and unnatural angle against the tub wall. His head ached like he was a freshly clubbed fish and his shoulder was not much better. Even worse, his badly banged bum now smarted as well as stung from the earlier kisses from Auntie Lucy's cane. Suffice to say, he was a sight and couldn't have been more of a pathetic example, had he been unhorsed at Bosworth Field; lying helpless in his armor at the marsh with Stanley and Henry's men riding down upon him from all sides and ...What? Oh please just look it up readers I shan't go into it here.

Lucy shrieked with laughter from where she sat at the foot of the bath as she found his slip and tumble "arse over tea kettle" most hilarious! Mummy wrinkled her nose in irritation at the interruption. She sat up and craned her head out of the bath and let loose with a loud,

"YES?"

Meredith pushed her way through the door with two wooden buckets steaming with hot water she'd just carried up the stairs. She huffed and puffed until she set them down upon the floor next to the tub. Harry dropped his foot down off the lip of the bath. He hoped the maid hadn't noticed his presence in the fog, and for all his pain and suffering, he remained perfectly still; imitating the same manner as a deer which has heard a twig snap in a wood. His head was low and just above the waterline and he contemplated diving below the surface but he was uncertain just how long he could hold his breath if he did so. He then heard the maid explain herself to his mother,

"I thought you both would be in need some more warm water. There are two more buckets like this down in the kitchen that the cook has on the stove for you Mah' am! Oh and Drusilla is fetching more water for the stove more as we speak. That should be about four more coming up."

"Oh..." Mummy answered graciously, "that IS awfully good of you Meredith. Yes, please add them right in!"

The maid nodded politely. She hoisted the first steaming bucket over the gaudy gilded lip of the tub. As she was about to pour into the bath, Mummy's eyes fell upon Harry. She frowned at him as cowered low in the water snapping,

"Harry! Do be a good sport and move your bum out of the way or you'll surely have it scalded as well as banged up and striped! Oh, and do please stop moaning like a mare giving birth. Try to behave like the manly fellow I know you to be. You had knock from a tub, not a musket ball to the temple!"

"Yes Mummy!" replied Harry.

He shot out of the way of impending cascade of scalding hot liquid and dashed straight into the clutches of his wicked Auntie Lucy, who ceased her shrill derisive laughter long enough to scoop him from behind in a powerful she-bear hug. She held fast the little cub she'd snatched up at the water's edge; giggling and kissing at the back of his neck with puckery smooching lips before running her naughty cow tongue up and down his nape. I suppose like most she-bears she decided if she cleaned it; then it was hers. Her hand now creeped 'around and down' to wickedly wank his willy in full view of the maid, (who merely began to pour).

Harry could see that the maid paid no more attention to his presence in the tub with two adult female relations any more than she did the steam rising out of her heavy bucket. Obviously she was either 'good' with this 'arrangement' or it was not a shock to her. He guessed that she'd been 'bought out' and that a bit of Daddy's 'hushy shushy' money was being diverted by Mummy to members of the house staff to purchase their silence and compliance. He wondered just how long this had all been going on, (all while Lucy now nibbled away at his earlobe and wanked furiously at his charger).

He now noticed the temperature down by his feet rising considerably (along with his pego which had wilted with his terrible tub tumble, but was being tempered now to a new polished hardness thanks to Auntie Lucy's talented tadger touches). He squirmed under her smothering kisses, sniffs, nips, and nibbles whilst the maid now poured a second bucket of water and added even more soothing warmth to the bath. The water level was up past his navel now and thanks to the skilled hands of Lucy.... so was that ardent throbber of his!

"Will fetch the other two buckets right away Mrs. Cory," Meredith informed her mistress. She then paused and remembered she had a question, "Oh and I suppose you'd like me to just keep the buckets coming Mah'am like we did when you 'ad your initial 'cleaning lessons' wif Miss Mabel and your sister, the gov'ness here?"

"Yes precisely," replied Edwina politely, "just like last year, that would be very good."

Harry went wide-eyed as her words sank in. Well, at least he had an answer as to how long at a minimum this had all been happening, (although he had a sneaking suspicion that Mother's indiscretions went much further back than any initiations that had occurred with his older sister). Quite a bit of it all now made sense to him in shocking hindsight.

He'd guessed there'd been at least half a score of "visits" that Auntie had paid the household over the years; all quite unannounced, (and she always took council behind closed doors with Mummy and his Grandmamah late at night). The next morning the three would emerge from those chambers for a merry breakfast but the room would smell a bit of wine, smoke, and some other smells that he couldn't immediately place at a tender age. He'd also noticed however the very same odor in the room when his father would visit; all quite odd really.

What's more, he'd recalled now where it was often the three would leave the house either in his mother's carriage or in that of his auntie's, but always they would return with a strange silent and secretive countenance that at the time he simply chalked up to the "business and affairs" of grown-ups. In such a home where strange and covert behavior became the norm, would it not make sense that a child would cease to notice it at all? Would it also not make sense to think that loyal servants such as Meredith and others had the foundation of that loyalty reinforced by a bit of coin across their palms?

And speaking of Meredith, he'd now completely ignored the departure of the maid. Instead, he stared off unblinking into his memories as if scrutinizing ships on a horizon that came nearer and nearer; until one by one he began to make out precisely what they were, and what they were about more importantly. His noggin stopped hurting from the fall and instead gears of clarity and epiphany began to turn inside. Harry was a smart one; possibly a bit too terribly smart by some accounts of the time!

He heard the outer door to his mother's bedroom close and guessed Meredith was headed down the hall to the stairs. It snapped him back into the here and now (as did the lovely foul wickedry of Auntie's wanking hand at his loins). He felt the back of her hand moving up and down behind him and he came to the realization that as she churned away at his horrid "Harry handle," she was plucking a tune on her own strings, (and most probably had done so the entire time Meredith was present in the room). No, he reasoned; definitely Meredith was well inside a particular circle of trust...of this much he was certain.

Mummy now cleared her throat at her sister. Lucy caught her look and pouted with no small bit of disappointment but she remembered that 'all good girls shared things with their sisters,' ( a point even more valid when those things happened to be their sister's to begin with)! Besides, neither Edwina nor Lucy wanted there to be a row or their mummy might settle things, (which would mean the toy in question would be taken away for a period of time). Lucy relinquished her grip on Harry; setting him free across the bath with a chuckle and a playful smack on his striped bum.

Mummy pouted her lips in an exaggerated pucker; beckoning with a wiggly-curled finger for Harry to 'come pay a bit of attention,' to her up in the rear of the immensely high-backed tub with its garish gold trim. She turned around and she ran her fesses out to greet him, her belly dripping water trickles back into the bath. Outside the rain continued to roar on the roof in a furious torrent as she whispered to him softly,

"Wash my back Harry. Do be a good boy for Mummy, yes?"

He did as told and took up a position behind her, his pego pushing out before him as if he were some sort of gallant lancer heading amidst the thick of it and about to do something truly heroic. His problem was he hadn't the foggiest as to what that something was. True enough, the thought of perfectly nasty things flashed through his mind at the moment. True enough still; he was ardent and his tadger throbbed and surged with blood, absolutely ready for it. As to just what that it was; he really couldn't say.

Aside from a general knowledge he had from books on animal husbandry and biology, he hadn't anything more in his experience to prepare him for any of this sort of thing. He'd wished some of those texts had been better illustrated and the descriptions of mammals conjoining had not been so rife with euphemisms and polite vagaries of then nineteenth century. It was therefore no small relief to him when Mummy calmly handed him both rag and soap over her shoulder so that he might at least crack-on with the washing and figure out the rest of that rude business in good time, (despite the hard fact that his throbbing pego wished to dispense with all things washing, and get to a bit of spearing in earnest)!

Seizing up the soap in his eager little paw, he began to wash upon Mummy's spine and the tops of her hips. It was all quite lovely; the sudsy bubbles dancing upon the lovely roundness of her Valentine shaped fesses as the water trickled into the steamy tub below with an audible dribbly dribble. He swirled and swooshed upon that miraculous thing; the human female arse (his mummy's actually), and marveled at its brilliant splendor. Such an arse, such a lovely lovely arse it was; bare, round, and presented for his very benefit! His pego was bobbing up and down in swollen appreciation at the sight; even if that cock's owner still hadn't a clue as to where it should go to ease all the throbbing throbs.

This went on for a minute or so until Edwina sensed a bit of indecision on Harry's part as to what he should do next. Being the polite reserved individual that Harry was; he needed to be plainly told by her in no uncertain terms to, 'please go lower with the soap, cloth, and the scrubby brush, Harry dear.' She told him. She told him as she slowly backed up a bit into him, as might a mare on-heat ease backwards to a stallion, her haunches now high round and most vulnerable; anticipatory even!

Harry complied and began to swish and swirl with the soapy brush, rag, and bristles down across the orbs of her lovely apple bottom as she presented herself to him for both servicing and inspection. Such a marvelous structure her bare arse was to him; captivating and almost hypnotic with its two rounded fleshy hills split by a lovely valley with a yawning pink sex below and the naughtiest "pink rosehole anus" above it. He presently screwed up the courage to actually lay his hand on first one of her gluteus maximii, and then the other to "push away the soap and suds" as part of ostensibly, "the rinse process." He wasn't fooling anyone however, as his hands now lingered and groped whilst his torrid tadger commenced hopping and dancing even more ardently than before; a particular something that did not escape the hawkish eyes of the two well-seasoned ladies he now occupied the bath with, and that something was noted by the women with interest most keen!

"Get my shoulders and neck as well darling," Mummy reminded him.

Harry's scrubby attentions left her bum as he dutifully shifted brush, soap, and warm washrag up to attend to those lovely locales. He swooshed with the soapy scrubs behind her ears, the back of her neck, and her delectable white shoulders; all the while his cock hopped and bounced as below him his mummy's naughty fesses swayed invitingly. As he was finishing up things just above her middle, that naughty section down below (namely her bum), jutted back against his throbbing pego; playfully bouncing into it in a delightful collision.

Edwina was being a terribly uncooperative bather for her poor attendant; what with her bum being all wet wriggly gyrations and soapy squishy squirms against his pego. With an impish squeal, she most deliberately caught the notch of her naughty nookie nest upon the mushroom head of Harry's proud pulsing poker and upon feeling him at the entrance to her sex; dropped her weight hard against it. I shan't go into all the Newtonian physics at work here dear readers, but suffice to say as Harry was scrubbing his Mummy's shoulders, he suddenly felt himself sink in an inch or so into the warmth of her feminine squeeze; clasping him in a most improper and yet wonderfully wicked fashion for a mummy to do to a son!

Harry's lungs it seemed attempted suck all the air from the room in one great asthmatic gasp as his lips tried to exclaim, "Oh Mummy I think I jus...."

"I know," Edwina softly interrupted him cooing, "SHUUSSSHH there, there. Oh not to worry, its alright Harry dearest. Accidents happen to the best of us, now don't panic, no harm done at all."

Her voice was all comfort and soft reassurance, but she had the wickedest of smirks etched across her lips, (as did her sister Lucy, frigging herself rotten just over Harry's shoulder). I suppose her look could not be helped; what with the lovely knob of her son nested in the spot she'd wanted it to be in on so many a tortuous and sleepless night in the recent past. Oh but then again, she reasoned, was it wise to rush things just yet?

She took pause and although the poke from her young man was indeed most pleasurable, she then decided having him spout this early-on in the game was simply not in her best interest. She figured that much like a fine meal, it might be best to drag this carnal feast out over multiple courses if possible. She most definitely did not wish to "spoil his appetite" with this first bit of appetizer.