SSC: The Governess Interviews

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SSC: The Governess Interviews

(*****, F/ffm, Intense, caning)

Children help their father select a new governess. (Approximately 496 words. Originally published 2000-06.)

"Your resume is impressive, Miss Crenshaw," said Lord Denningburg. "Tell me, how do you feel about discipline?"

"Strict, sir. No nonsense."

"You are comfortable with the cane?" The man nodded toward a rattan rod in the umbrella stand in the corner.

The woman smiled. "I've caned my share of naughty boys and girls."

"Good. Then it is time for the final test of your interview, a demonstration." He pushed a button and a moment later three sullen-faced teenagers were led into the room by the butler.

"These are my children," said the man. "I'm afraid they are a handful and require frequent discipline. The oldest is Mary. She's seventeen."

A tall slender girl in a pale blue gown gave a brief curtsy toward the woman.

"Next is Melinda, who's fifteen."

She was a small girl, very pretty, whose voluptuous and very adult body was exaggerated by her petite frame.

"And finally Marvin. He's just turned thirteen."

The boy was taller than his youngest sister, very skinny, his boyish face beginning to lose the puppyfat of youth and go from cute to handsome.

Lord Denningburg continued: "Mary, fetch the cane, please."

Her lips curling downward in bitterness, the girl quietly obeyed. She presented the cane to the woman with a polite bow.

The governess was startled. "You... you wish me to cane... now?"

"Of course. I must observe how you handle discipline. I will not hire a governess who cannot control my children. They need frequent punishment."

"But... but what have they done?"

The old man smiled and the children looked embarrassed. "Oh, I'm sure they've done _something_. Besides, a sound thrashing never hurt anybody."

Miss Crenshaw spoke before she thought: "Perhaps you wouldn't think that if _you_ were the one to be thrashed!" As soon as she said it she wanted to slap herself. Her face went crimson with horror and she opened her mouth to apologize but nothing came out. _Perhaps I'm the one who needs the thrashing_, she thought.

To her surprise, Lord Denningburg only laughed. "I suppose you are correct," he said gallantly. His face became serious. "Three strokes each, Miss Crenshaw. Make them real."

The children waited expectantly, like the condemned before the executioner. Miss Crenshaw took a deep breath and resolved to make this as quick and efficient as possible. She quickly ordered the girls to raise their skirts and the boy to lower his trousers. The nine strokes were a blur of furious motion. It was all over in less than a minute. Without being told the children went to separate corners to whimper and wait.

"Excellent, Miss Crenshaw. I shall be in contact."

The governess nodded and departed. A teary-eyed Mary turned. "I liked her, father. Why not pick her?"

"I liked her too, but we must give all applicants an equal chance."

Mary winced. "How... how many more interviews?"

"Just two more today and four tomorrow."

The children looked depressed.

The End

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