This follows The Plan.
Whatever semblance of shame that had been on Phillipa’s face after the Discipline Room was quickly gone. Her plan to meet her secret admirer boosted her spirits, and she was back to flitting around her quarters by mid-afternoon, dreaming of the mysterious Bartholomew and their meeting. Helena helped her dress, her feelings flipping between irritation at the princess’s blithe disposition after this morning’s eventfulness, and worry that something would disrupt their plans. So far, though, things were playing out nicely. As predicted, Phillipa requested privacy from her usual accompaniment for her afternoon ride, and as predicted, was permitted to have this as long as the governess was allowed along. Phillipa didn’t even pitch much of a fit about it, likely because she had already caused such a scene.
She was haughty as she ordered Helena to stay back and give her space, but the governess allowed herself to seem gracious about the demands, winking over her highness’s head at head of the stables. She did give the young woman some room, staying back on the trail but keeping her well within sight. Soon, they had followed the path away from the castle, and when the trail split, Phillipa took the cleared path into the woods.
The light changed as Helena entered the forest canopy, and she felt her eyes adjusting to the dimness as her brown mare continued along the brushed dirt. The path winded lazily deeper into the trees, and it became difficult to keep the young princess in sight. Helena let her wander further than she usually would have, content to hear the horse’s hooves and know they were still fairly close to each other. They needed to be well out of hearing range of anyone else, which would be the case if Phillipa followed the instructions of “Bartholomew” and his letter. Just as she thought this, Helena heard the horse ahead slow, and she knew that the princess had spotted the first trail marker for her to follow; a bit of blue string tied inconspicuously to a tree branch. Abraham had set up the path this morning, marking the way far off the trails and toward a clearing that had been scouted days before.
Helena clicked to her horse and their pace quickened; she wanted the princess to think she had shaken her guardian without actually getting too far ahead. For almost an hour they continued like this, with the governess occasionally yelling out to her charge in feigned worry, eventually even letting false panic enter her voice as she shouted, “Princess! I’ve lost you, and we’ve lost the path! Princess?!”
She could imagine the smug look on Phillipa’s face; she knew the princess could hear but not see her and the foolish girl would no doubt be applauding her own cunning. Helena followed the strings herself, though, steadily until she knew they were well away from even the deepest set of the servants’ quarters. Then she clicked again and she and her horse sped up, trotting past the blue strings and catching up with the girl in a matter of minutes. Helena watched the disappointment bloom on Phillipa’s face when she entered the clearing. The princess had already dismounted, tied her own horse to a tree, and arranged herself prettily on a fallen log– one that had actually made this spot particularly appealing to Abraham when he had been scouting locations.
The governess resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Clearly Phillipa had expected her knight to enter momentarily, timed as if he belonged in one of the fanciful stories the royal brats of the castle often told themselves and each other. Helena slid to the ground effortlessly, ignoring the huffing of the princess, who had shot up and was stalking toward her governess in a rage. “Leave! I do not need you here!” she yelled at the older woman.
Helena didn’t so much as flinch as she lead her own horse to be tied, allowing herself to embrace the feeling of truly having the upper hand for once. “It’s my job to look after you, Princess. Where else would I be but here?” she said calmly.
“Anywhere else! I am no child in need of a nursemaid! I demand you leave at once!” cried Phillipa, her fists clenched at her sides and her eyes wide with anger.
“You are right about that,” Helena said as she turned away from the animals and gave Phillipa her full attention, “you are no longer a child, and I am not a nursemaid.”
Something in the governess’s face finally tipped the spoilt young woman off to the fact that things were not what she thought, and she frowned and took a step back as Helena slowly advanced toward her.
“As to what you need, that I have known for a very long time. It has pained me to fail you, over and over again, but it was not my choice to make. As you are about to find out, though, Princess Phillipa, I have taken matters into my own hands.”
Phillipa’s eyes widened as she continued her slow retreat backwards, unconsciously letting Helena steer her back toward the log upon which she’d been lounging moments ago. “What you need is the discipline you so often seem to seek but never truly feel. What you need are boundaries, and a firm hand, and someone willing to guide you properly.”
Phillipa’s legs bumped the fallen tree and she plopped down abruptly, still staring at Helena’s face. Without warning she opened her mouth wide and yelled, “Bartholomew! Help! Please help me, sweet knight!”
For the first time since dismounting, Helena was surprised. The foolish girl still thought there was a knight in shining armor making his way to her, hidden in the woods and ready to save her honor, or at least the virgin skin of her bottom. Helena laughed, a quiet sound with little mirth. There was indeed a man waiting in the woods, but he was no knight and his intentions were not kind. He would make his presence known soon enough, but he certainly would not save her.
The governess took the princess’s chin in her hand, and held her face firmly in place as she spoke. “There is no Bartholomew, Princess. There is only a stack of letters in my quarters that I ‘found’ while straightening your room, and one that I ‘intercepted’ with your promises to run off alone with this stranger.” Helena tightened her grip on the girl’s face. “You are not leaving here with any stranger. You are here to finally get the spanking you truly deserve.”
Phillipa actually gasped as she finally began to piece together the information she was receiving, and even with her cheeks being squeezed by the other woman’s hand she tried to say “My father–” but she was cut off immediately.
“Your father will send you to a nunnery if you ever speak of what happens here. I will show him the letters if you so much as threaten me, Princess, and perhaps I will face consequences but they will be alongside yours and they will have been worth it.”
Helena’s voice was deadly as she said this, and a prelude to her changing her grip from the girl’s jaw to her ear. She dragged the princess up and seated herself on the log, pulling the girl down and across her newly ready lap. Phillipa kicked her legs, fighting, not able to form words yet through her shock but resisting as best she could. There was a brief struggle and a cloud of useless petticoats as the two of them wrestled, but it ended with the princess face down, her bare legs exposed and trapped between the strong legs of her governess. Her many skirts lay piled around her waist, her pantaloons were split wide open around her naked bottom, and her right hand was secured by her side as her left flapped behind Helena’s back uselessly.
The governess felt grim satisfaction at the perfect blank canvas before her. She ignored the little royal’s struggling and enjoyed the moment. She had dreamed for years of doing just this, and now she wanted to savor it. Her free hand rested on the cool skin of the girl’s backside, which was still despite the twitching of so many other muscles as the useless flailing continued. She patted the bottom gently, even affectionately, recalling the young girl this princess used to be, the one that held such potential, the one who had truly wished for anyone to pay this much attention to her.
“You have grown into a thoroughly nasty, spoiled young woman, Princess. You have treated me unkindly, embarrassed me and your father, and caused entirely too much undue harm for one young woman. For this,” and Helena smugly adopted the formal tone she used in the Discipline Room, “you will receive a spanking on your bare bottom, witnessed by Camilla, the whipping girl, and Abraham, her husband.”
Phillipa’s body stilled at these last words and she turned her head wildly from side to side, her movement restricted but her dismay palpable. She spotted the pair of them as they walked into the clearing, out from the thick copse which had hidden them. They peered at her unsympathetically, and Helena smiled to herself, happy to have them witness the justice they both deserved here. Phillipa screeched and renewed her struggling, more desperate than before. “NO THEY CANNOT I FORBID IT I–”
But her shouts were in vain and ended in a loud cry as Helena brought her hand down sharply on the princess’s as-yet unspanked bottom. The governess spared her more lecturing for now, instead intent on letting the girl wear herself out. Phillipa’s round bottom was high in the air and framed beautifully by her bright white undergarments. Her delicately slippered feet kicked useless at the dirt, and she gasped and yelped with every swat. Helena had no troubled restraining the girl, whose pampered life had left her fragile and weak. She watched as the girl’s skin began to color, and made sure to spank well down her thighs. Because the princess had never been so much as swatted before, it didn’t take long for small bruises to begin forming. Helena found them incredibly satisfying, and increased the force behind her swats, each one delivering the full potential of the governess’s strong arm and wide swing.
She only slowed when she heard a faint “please,” but she didn’t stop spanking the girl. Phillipa was barely struggling now, having used most of her energy up quickly. Helena was pleased with this new development and began to lecture her again. “Your days of roaming around with your behavior unchecked are over, Phillipa,” she said, purposefully dropping the royal title and treating the princess like the unruly brat she was. “Do you understand me?” she asked as she placed several swats across the girl’s thighs.
“Yes, yes I understand!” cried Phillipa.
“You will treat me and every other person you meet, from the lowliest chambermaid to the highest ranking noble, with respect and kindness.”
“I will, I swear it.”
“And if you don’t, I will accompany you here, to this very clearing, and I will put you back across my knee, Phillipa, and I will spank you just like this.” Helena punctuated her entire lecture with swats, and the princess sobbed through all of them. It was no light spanking, and the girl’s bottom was uniformly bruising now. When the governess finally slowed and then stopped the spanking, she marveled that Camilla could bear this and more without shedding a single tear as she gently stroked the princess’s hot skin. She felt an affection for the girl that she thought had died long ago. She didn’t take time to linger on the feeling, though. Only one part of the girl’s debt had been repaid, and she had another to atone to now. Helena took hold of her shoulders and pulled her up, then stood up next to her and pushed her back down, forcing her to sit on the log. She squealed and tried to stand again, but Helena refused to let her. The princess sniffled loudly but kept her wet eyes on her governess’s face.
“We aren’t finished,” she said firmly, and Phillipa looked bewildered. “Why-y-y?” she hiccuped, and Helena raised an eyebrow as she replied. “Because what always happens to Camilla when she has to pay for your naughtiness, Phillipa?” The princess shut her eyes tightly and a few tears leaked from the outer corners and down her cheeks. “She gets the strap,” she managed finally, her voice shaking, “or the cane. Am I going to be caned?”
Helena knew the princess was picturing the whipping girl’s stripes from this morning, and it terrified her. The countless punishments she had witnessed over her life had suddenly become very real. She was already shifting restlessly on the log, unable to keep weight on any part of her swollen bottom for long. Helena looked over her shoulder at Abraham. He shook his head slightly, and glanced to his left. She followed his gaze and saw the wide leather strap he had hanging from a branch beside him.
Helena nodded and turned back to the pitiful little princess. “Be thankful Abraham is feeling generous. You are not going to be caned. You are going to feel the strap. Though I don’t imagine it’s going to feel like he’s being generous.”
Dawning apprehension was all over the girl’s face as she began to speak. “But… he can’t… I can’t be…” she fumbled. Even now, minutes after being released from across her governess’s knee, Helena could see the defiance returning to the princess’s eyes. “He cannot. He is common and I am–”
“A spoiled rotten princess. A brat in need of taming. A young woman about to be strapped by a very common and very angry man. I would not worry so much about the common part.”