Strict Governess Novels & Stories

the man asked. Darcy was beautiful and smart, yet she was under Galahad’s control. She could grow strong and independent if she was free of those shackles, but she was locked down because of her name. She had no freedom and must act according to orders. Even the man felt bad for Darcy, hence the question. “Don’t ask what you shouldn’t know. You should know the rules here and who you are. Curiosity kills the cat,” said the butler. Like his master, he too spoke kindly and warmly but his tone felt pressuring.

You will assume all my duties and responsibilities here in the mansion" she enumerated her role and I listened eagerly. I learned that she was more like an overseer/supervisor than a house keeper, she kept things in order and made sure everyone does their jobs perfectly. "You have to be strict and authoritative, so everyone will follow your orders, not Everyone will listen to you, some are hard headed like Connor the driver". "Well, I will take that as a challenge.Noted Calliope." "Remember to address me as miss Chloros in front of Mr Knights, he doesn't address his staff by their first name

He leans in closer, his breath hot against my ear as he whispers. “That’s what I like to hear.“ He trails a finger down the side of my neck, humming approvingly. “Now… let’s see just how cooperative you can be.“ He goes over and locks the door. “So what’s your name handsome?” “Oh, I do enjoy a sweet talker. You can call me whatever you want, princess.“ He taps my lip lightly with a finger, voice dripping in condescension,his closeness irritating me but I have to play along. “But why don't you start by calling me "Sir"?“

but she was willing to make up for it. On her way to Giselle's old room, Clara met Margaret, the housekeeper who had taken care of her since her mother passed away. The elder woman asked her where she was heading. Clara told her she wanted to get her hair done by Giselle. Hearing the name, the woman's facial expression changed into confusion.

Her behavior seems suspicious to Isabella. What is behind this door? Mrs. Garrett is the head of the maid. She's in her late fifties. When she came here Alex introduced her to that kind looking lady. She has been working here since Alex's birth. Isabella felt somewhat at ease in the company of the older lady. Without giving it much thought, she made her way downstairs. After having her dinner she was about to leave the place, a car horn broke off. Isabella's instincts kicked into motion. She climbed up the stairs quietly and raced towards Zara's room.

She came undone on his tongue, on the bench meant for punishment, as he whispered every filthy desire he’d had since she walked in. And when he finally took her, hard and deep, her cries turned into a new lesson: submission could be just as powerful as control. The iron gate creaked as Lillian stepped into the secluded estate, tucked behind rows of manicured hedges and dripping vines. It was a modern mansion, yes, but built in the image of something older gothic arches, heavy chandeliers, and a scent of old wood and secrecy. She clutched her satchel tighter. The contract she signed ran through her mind again: You will assume the role of a governess. You will remain in character at all times.

, I lost my attention from the paintings when a woman in a prehistoric uniform spoke. This is one of the things I'm really worried about. She is looking at me from head to toe while going down the staircase. I'm not mistaken, she is the head governess of the house. "I'm Avery ma'am. I'm the one who was sent by the agency", I introduced while lowering my head. "It is Miss Portia", she started while tensing the last two words. "How young are you, Miss Rosenfield?", she asked while raising her left brow which is kind of intimidating.

the head maid answered quickly. “That is not enough for how well I pay you, which is why you are all incompetent!” I almost yelled at them. “Mrs. Alexa was adamant about not letting us touch anything that concerned you,” the third maid answered meekly. “She probably thought that you both would be married forever; she was very committed to ensuring that you had everything you needed,” she added, her voice low. “She often insisted that she could not trust anyone else to look after you like she would, sir,” the second maid answered.

This has never happened in the mansion before. Sera normally looks so stern but treats everyone very harmoniously and amicably. If someone made a mistake, she only deducted it from their salary or made a little more work, but never locked it in the warehouse like that. “Why is she doing it so hard? She never did that before." “That's right, Doris is also the lady's close maid. Will she let the butler do that?” “There's no use in stopping it, the management of the servants in the mansion has always been done by the butler. Mrs will not interfere in this matter.”

A modern-day Cinderella, except my fairy godmother is a desperate staffing agency and my Prince Charming is a ghost who signs my paychecks. The housekeeper, a woman named Mrs. Gable with a face like a clenched fist, had given me the tour this morning. Her voice was a monotone drone of rules. "Mr. Davenport's study is off-limits. You are to clean it only when he is not present and only the surfaces I specify. Do not touch his desk. Do not open any drawers. His bedroom is the same. You change the linens, you do not snoop. Am I understood?"