On London's Great Portland Street, there is a row of gloomy mansions that have not changed appreciably in the last century. There blossomed the romance of Michael Lovel and Jane Marwood. It was a story so bizarre in its beginnings, so fraught with suffering in its outcome, that the old house, which witnessed its birth and infancy, might well look melancholy with the despair of seeing such a story ever matched.

Such loves as Michael and Jane's have gone out of style, there are loves that are impossible in the world as it is these days.

In the year 1880, when this story begins, it was on one of those rare occasions when spring comes early, and a nostalgic atmosphere flows through the Victorian homes as if the flowers had not blossomed for decades. This, of cause, gave rise to much friendly conversation over the weather, which was always the preferred topic of conversation.

Michael Lovel was lying peacefully on his stomach in the tall grass of the cemetery, which lay half a mile outside the city of London. Not a soul could be seen at this old neglected graveyard, which suited Michael just fine as he was of a rather withdrawn nature. Not even the old retired cemetery caretaker, who used to wave at Michael while he went through the tall grass with a rusted rake, more symbolically than anything, could be seen this day.

"Maria Lovel, 1829-1872"

It read on the tombstone, the letters so decayed that you could hardly make out the date of birth.

Michael was eighteen now, which meant his mother had passed away when he was but a lad, leaving his upbringing to the stern, conservative mercantilist who was his father.

He was at this time, when we first make his acquaintance, a rather insignificant boy, small for his age, shy, of a reserved disposition and a sweet and even temper. Outwardly, he was timid and passive; possessing an almost delicate beauty inherited from his mother.

Having spent the last ten years of his young life at a boys-boarding school, he had not yet made acquaintances with any females, although they would undoubtedly be taken in by the handsome features of his appearance.

Today was a very significant day; he would be introduced to a lady who went by the name of "Jane Marwood". She was what they at the time called a governess. A woman employed to teach and train young boys and girls in a private household.

Although having a governess at Michael's age was far from the norm, his father had found that it was necessary, seeing how Michael appeared to be rather immature compared to his fellow schoolmates. A trait he blamed on the early passing of the boy's mother.

Another reason had also inclined him to take these somewhat drastic measures, though Michael's father did not speak of it due to the taboo nature of the subject.

During Michael's stay at the boarding school, he had been caught several times masturbating, which at the time was seen upon as a disgusting habit. Bluntly speaking most of the boys properly took part in this self-abusing practice, but Michael had been unfortunate on several occasions, thus persuading the principle that a hand-written letter to Mr.Lovel was in order.

Jane Marwood was notoriously know in the upper-class families of London for being a particularly stern governess, not inclined to spare the cane if her young charges didn't demonstrate the right amount of discipline required in her presence.

She had jet-black hair which was tied up neatly in a not, exhibiting her beautiful jar-line. Her full red lips and mesmerizing emerald-green eyes had the sort of expression that would make the knees of every young man go weak. Her figure was slim, with gorgeous breasts sitting firmly and proudly on her chest, the curve of her waist and hips leading to long, slender legs. Marwood's features were an utmost temptation to the eye, yet she radiated the kind of feminine authority that would make her admirers disregard any foolish endeavors of winning her grace effortlessly.

As Michael lay there in the tall grass, wondering what his new governess would be like, a very distinctly looking woman in a blue Victorian dress stepped inside the Lovel's house, where she was greeted by Michael's father. So great was his astonishment at her beauty, that Mr.Lovel had forgotten to offer his assistance with her luggage.

"Welcome miss Marwood! What a pleasure to finally meet you," he said when he finally came to his senses.

"The pleasure is all mine Mr.Lovel," Jane Marwood said with a smile, showing of her flawless white teeth.

As Jane offered Mr.Lovel her hand, he quickly took her slender fingers within both his sweaty palms and gave a deep bow, which was of rather unusual behavior for his character. But Marwood's extraordinary exterior had the tendency of rejuvenating even the proudest of men.

"Michael is visiting his mother's grave, if I had only known you would arrive this early," He immediately started apologizing, still holding her hand.

"Oh it's no trouble, I'm sure we'll have plenty of time later this afternoon," Jane cut him off, her gaze wandering from Mr.Lovel's face to the dusty commode that stood beside him. Things would undoubtedly change around here.

Michael's father suddenly realized he had been holding her hand for an inappropriately length of time and let go of her with a bewildered expression on his face.

"Let me show you to the room you'll be staying in," he then said while picking up the suitcase which he had until this point neglected to help her with.

Jane followed the elderly man, noting how the cleanliness of the house was in a poor state. Honestly speaking it would properly be considered normal by today's standards, but Jane was a perfectionist in most aspects, striding towards being the ideal governess.

At the end of the house they entered a fairly decent sized room with a large bed and a dressing table. There were two large windows on either side of the bed, which gave the room a refreshing bright look, as the light outside illuminated the old wooden floor.

Michael's father set down her belongings on the bed and turned to look at her. He wanted to speak, but couldn't get the words over his tongue as he felt shameful mentioning what was on his mind. Jane looked at him sympathetically as she had previously been fully informed by letter, and knew full well what he wanted to say.

She was aware that Michael had been expelled from the boarding school for being caught red-handed for the fifth time. And how the boy had lost his mother at an early age and therefore needed a firm caring hand.

"It will be difficult, sir, but you need have no doubt of my eventual success" Jane said, in a much more articulated manner than what would eventually have come out the mouth of Mr.Lovel, had she not interrupted him.

"Very well miss! You have my full permission to do whatever it takes to make a proper man out of my son," he said with a quick bow and then turned to leave the room, eager to escape this disgraceful conversation.

Jane Marwood promptly busied herself cleaning the house and scrubbing the floor. Within just four hours she had the house sparkling clean. As she was putting up the newly washed laundry to dry, she suddenly heard a noise coming from the front of the house.

"This must be Michael," she thought to herself as she quickly hung up the last piece of clothing and walked towards the front door. Indeed it was Michael, standing in the hallway with a tail of dirty footprint behind him.

Michael's face was a pure picture of amazement and anxiety as he saw the goddess approach him with a stern expression on her stunningly beautiful face.

"As a matter of fact, I just cleaned the very floor you are walking across with those filthy shoes, you foolish boy!" Jane said in a calm tone, not revealing that she was in fact very pleased at the sight of him.

With his slim body and handsome face he looked like a little Adonis, looking up at her with his big brown eyes.

"I'm so...sorry!" Michael stammered, not knowing what to say.

"Is that how you address your governess boy?" Jane said sternly as she took one step closer, with folded arms across her chest.

"Say, Apologies miss Marwood" The governess said, tapping her foot against the wooden floor as if to indicate the exhaustion of her patience.

"Apologies miss Marwood," Michael quickly stammered, looking down upon his feet in an attempt to avoid the scrutiny from her penetrating eyes.

"Very well, I will let this little incident go unpunished," Jane said in a more gentle tone, extending her right arm and softly caressing his cheek. Michael was blushing crimson by now.

"You've been away for quite a long time Michael. The cemetery is only 2 miles away, what have you been doing?"

He blushed and tried to reply, but an excess of shyness strangled his voice. He remained silent.

"Well?"

"I...I did nothing at all."

"Nothing at all! But that is unheard of. One must do something."

The last words were accompanied by a gaze of such penetration that he shivered, his eyes involuntarily falling to the region of his genitals for assurance that there were no traces of his indulgence. Jane's shrewd gaze followed his.

"Come now," she said, with a faint note of mockery in her clear, pleasant voice, "tell me what you have been doing."

As the boy failed to come up with an answer, Jane decided to end his torment.

"I want you to take off your shoes, walk upstairs and get cleaned up. Then I want you to go to your room, pick up the edition of Dostojevskij's "Crime and Punishment" which I have placed on your pillow and read the first four chapters."

Jane was speaking in a monotone voice, like a teacher addressing a pupil, contrasting greatly to the actions of her hand which she was lovingly running through his soft brown hair.

"Subsequently I want you to write a resume of the four chapters and hand it over when you come down for supper, at exactly 7 p.m."

"Yes miss Marwood," Michael quickly replied before hurriedly removing his shoes and running up the staircase.

For the next couple of hours Jane didn't hear a sound from upstairs, which pleased her very much.

She once again scrubbed the floor and cleaned off the dirty shoes he had left behind. When everything was finally living up to her standards of cleanliness, she proceeded to the kitchen and began preparing supper, producing a healthy, nutritional meal, suitable for a teenager like Michael.

The hour for supper arrived and the great antique clock in the living room stroke nineteen. The loud noise it produced was pursued by a sound of swift footsteps along the ceiling.

Michael soon appeared in the kitchen doorway, holding in his hand two pieces of paper. He nervously approached Jane, handing her the resume with his hands visibly shaking.

Taking hold of his work, she carefully examined its content.

"Only two pages?" She said in a disapproving tone.

In actuality she was surprised that he had even finished reading the four chapters of the book, but she still hadn't forgiven his previous misconduct and was determined to chastise the boy. Furthermore she was rather looking forward to baring his young bottom and inflicting some color onto it with her cane.

"Is father not joining us for supper?" Michael asked in a quiet voice.

"No, he is visiting a friend. You may sit down," she told him while continuously reading through his resume, concealing any sign of approval for what was truthfully a decent piece of writing.

"Right, we'll definitely have to work on that young man," Jane finally said as she tossed the paper down next to the sink.

Sighing loudly Jane strolled across the floor and stood next to Michael, inspecting him with her eyes. "Show me your hands Michael."

A gulping sound escaped from the poor boy as he raised his trembling hands, sensing her growing impatience.

Tenderly she took hold of his hands, examining each of them thoroughly. Then suddenly she grasped the tip of his fingers and violently pushed them up in front of his frightened face.

"There is dirt under your nails Michael!" She said in a tone that indicated inevitable consequences.

"That's it young man! I've had it with your insolence!" The governess said as she abruptly grabbed hold of his earlobe and raised him from the chair.

"Awww please miss I'm sorry!" Michael winced in pain, not for a moment questioning the legitimacy of her reaction to what he had until now deemed as a trifle matter.

Dragging him behind her by the earlobe, she marched him into the living room where she pushed him face down on the couch with his head pressed against the back of it.

Michael made an effort to get up but felt her hand firmly pressing down on the small of his back. "Stay right where you are young man, don't make this worse for yourself," he heard his governess say in a tone that didn't encourage any form of disobedience.

Michael lay still, his heartbeat racing as he awaited the impending result of his careless misdeeds.

Had he only known the thoughts going through the head of his governess as she stood behind him, enjoying the moment in an awfully improper manor.

Her face was that of a hungry lioness and a wicked smile had spread across her lips.

"If you as much as utter a word without being asked I will add five strikes with the cane," Jane said in a far from gentle tone. "Do you understand Michael?"

"Yes governess," Michael whimpered, knowing there was no way out of this.

Suddenly he felt her hands reach around his waist, slowly unbuttoning the front of his shorts. He was in a state of utter shock as he felt her slender fingers delicately pulling down the zipper of his pants.

"Please no, miss Marwood," Michael moaned in embarrassment.

"Five more strikes with the cane then," he heard her say in a voice that almost suggested she was enjoying his predicament.

Hooking her fingers inside his shorts and undies, she slowly began pulling them down over his round, taut bottom, to which Michael's only reaction was to whimper in disbelief.

Jane was deliberately tugging down the garment as slow as possible, wanting to postpone the moment of his total humiliation.

As the soft flesh of his buttocks was exposed to her gaze, she admired the smoothness of his pale tushy. She let his pants and undies fall to the ground around his knees, rendering his legs completely immovable. Slowly, she traced her nails over the smooth skin on the back of his thighs, sending shivers through Michael's spine.

"Such a cute little behind," Jane said in a loving voice as her hands traveled over his young bum. Marwood noted that her charge was blushing deeply, his cheeks becomming a color that would soon match his bottom.

With her left hand she took hold of his shirt and dragged it up past his shoulder blades, hungrily taking in the perfection of his physic.

Then suddenly, as if like thunder from a clear sky, her hand landed sharply on the upturned cheeks of his bottom, causing Michael to yelp out in pain.

"Smack! smack! smack!" It sounded, as hard slaps rained down upon the woundable target before her.

"Please miss! Please governess!" Michael wailed in desperation, his pleas only arousing Jane even further.

"Five more with the cane!" Jane said unsympathetically, continuing to punish his blushing behind.

"Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!"

The poor boy wriggled his bottom pathetically in an attempt to lessen the impact of her flat palm against his skin.

"Smack! Smack! Smack!"

For the next ten minutes, all that could be heard in the large living room was the sound of

flesh against flesh as her hand unrelentingly roasted his poor backside, and the occasional

moan of pain that escaped from Michael's lips.

When Jane was satisfied with the rosy-red color upon his burning cheeks, she suddenly stopped and ran her hands soothingly over his inflamed skin.

"Shhhhh almost done now sweetie," she said reassuringly, feeling a rush of sympathy as she saw the tears rolling down his blushing face.

"Stand up young man," she said, guiding him by the hips up to a standing position. Turning him around by his shoulders, she took hold of his wrists and lifted them above his head in order to remove his shirt.

As she pulled off the garment, she noted that his penis had become slightly engorged, and that it was of a satisfying size and shape.

Michael was unable to meet her eyes as she bared his chest. Wiping the tears off his blushing face, she said in a gentle voice; "I want you to stand in the corner over there, nose touching the wall, and think about why I had to punish you Michael"

The poor boy quickly nodded his head with a sniffle. His feet still restricted from the shorts around his ankles, he waddled pathetically over to the corner and got into the degrading position which she had ordered him.

Without saying a word, the governess went upstairs into her room and picked up her favorite cane from her suitcase. This particular cane had seen quite a few naughty bottoms over the years, and the hand which wielded it was one of familiarity.

As she reentered the living room, Michael was standing obediently in the same position. With his nose pressed against the corner and his hands rubbing the sore flesh of his behind, he looked adorably cute.

Seeing him like this, almost made Jane think twice about using the cane on him, but her experience as a governess told her otherwise.

Michael didn't dare look back over his shoulders, but the distinguished twitching sound of the cane was unmistakable.

With his eyes shut tightly, he awaited the agonizing impact of the cane.

"You will receive 10 strikes of the cane, I want you to count them out loud, is that understood?"

"Yes miss Marwood," Michael sobbed, unable to resign himself to the excruciating pain he would undoubtedly undergo.

A brief moment of silence followed, after which the distinctive sound of a stick cutting through air could be heard as the cane stung the soft unprotected flesh of his bottom.

"Crack!"

"One miss Marwood!" Michael cried out, barely able to cope with the immense stinging sensation the cane left behind.

"Crack!"

"Awwww! Two miss Marwood!" The poor boy sobbed helplessly, tears streaming down his handsome face.

In a foolish attempt to shield his aching buttocks the cane landed sharply on his hand

"Hands away! That one doesn't count!"

"Please governess!" Michael pleaded rubbing his hurting hand

"Crack!"

"Th...Three miss Marwoooooood!" he wept, as he dutifully counted the stinging blows.

"Crack!"

"Crack!"

"Fou..Five miss Marwood!" Michael cried out, barely able to stand.

The painful punishment suddenly seized, as Jane had decided the boy couldn't take any more.

Michael felt the cool hands of his governess upon his burning bottom, which now had five visible red stripes across it.

"Shhhh it's all over now sweetie," she whispered in a soothing voice into his ear.

Michael was panting heavily now, grateful that she had shoved him some mercy.

"Your governess is going to make it much better now," Jane said in a loving voice as she took hold of his wrist and guided him over to the couch, dragging him face down across her lap.

So great was his relief, that he happily resigned himself to being put over her lap as if he were but a child.

Jane picked up a jar of cream and unscrewed the lid, coating her fingers in the white substance.

She gently rubbed a generous amount of the soothing cool cream into the stinging flesh of his buttocks and despite the humiliating nature of her gesture, the cool cream felt wonderful upon his burning skin.

Jane squeezed his bum tightly as she molded his flesh. Letting her hand sensually trace up the back of his spine, a rush of shivers went through Michael's body.

The boy uttered a small moan as her fingers gently played with the nape of his neck.
"That's a good litte boy, doesn't that feel much better?"

Jane said in a soft voice while sliding her other hand down between the cheeks of his bottom, cupping his testicles in the palm of her hand. Michael moaned timidly in reply, feeling completely defeated in a state between pleasure and utter humiliation.

Tightening her grip on his precious globes she bent down next to his ear.

"Answer me boy" she whispered with a quick squeeze of her hand.

"Yes governess, thank you governess" he whimpered in a low voice with his face blushing deeply.

Jane let go of his little sack, her fingers once again trailing up and down between his cheeks, adding pressure each time she passed the little rosebud that lay in between which made Michael jump slightly in her lap.

Stifling a giggle, Jane dug her fingers into the deep cleft of his bottom and pried the soft globes apart, smiling at the sight of his cute little anus.

Michael had never felt so exposed as the cool air of the room came into contact with his sensitive sphincter. Jane traced a long cream coated finger around his pink opening, causing Michael to moan out in embarrassment.

"Please miss, don't," but quickly stopped himself, as he by now knew better than to resist her will.

It didn't go unnoticed by the governess, who smiled triumphantly at his complete submission as she simultaneously firmly popped her finger up inside him.

"Uhhhhhh," Michael whimpered as Jane buried her finger inside him to the knuckle.

His penis, which lay nestled between her legs, had now become fully erect as Jane was rubbing the soft skin of her thighs against his sensitive member.

She Squeezed his penis tightly between her warm legs as her finger teasingly ran over the glans of his prostate, making his entrapped pecker throb violently.

With a twist of her deeply embedded finger, she slowly withdrew from within him. Jane gave him a light playful slap upon his sore bottom, causing him to jump in slight pain.

"Right, stand up young man."

Michael was reluctant to get up as he was by now sporting a raging erection. Jane watched with an amused smile as the red-faced boy got up with his hands instantly flying to his crouch in an attempt to hide his shameful condition

.

"Hands on your head young man, I won't tolerate any false modesty," Jane said as she quickly got up, raising her hand as if to inflict another blow on his sore backside. Hurriedly he did as told, exposing his throbbing penis.

"Do you have no self-control?" Jane said mockingly as she softly patted his little sack.

Taking hold of him by the hips, she marched him out towards the bathroom.

"Now I will show you have to properly clean yourself young man," Jane Marwood said as she admired his beautiful form, hands on his head and that cute blushing behind on display. She would make a man out of him alright.

To be continued...