The Governess Of Bengal Pt 02

"Can you believe it?" Ursula asked her sister, barely containing her excitement now that the governess had gone. "Becca, honestly -- have you ever seen anything like it?"

Becca didn't answer. She just shook her head, eyes lowered, watching Sarika clear away the soiled cloths and wiping the table a final time. Sarika took a clean rag and bent slightly to address the residue that remained on his legs -- she started at the calves and ankles, wiping away any streaks that had dripped downward, then rose to his inner thighs and hips. Haltingly, she passed the rag over and around the source of the trouble.

Becca quickly looked away, to Ursula. "Let's release him now."

Becca unfastened the straps at Ben's wrists while Ursula stooped to free his ankles. Ursula, still breathless with delight, brushed her fingers across his bare foot. "Feeling better now?" she asked. "Cleansed?" Ben didn't respond.

The buckles came undone with a soft clink. As soon as he was loose, Ben curled in on himself, hands moving to cover what dignity he could.

"

Sahib

," asked Sarika cautiously. "May I help you to rise, please? I must clean your back." He stood without her help. She wrung out the rag and moved behind him, wiping his lower back and his hips roughly, then lower, across his buttocks, and along the backs of his thighs.

Ben looked miserable, his eyes finding Becca.

"Are you all right," she gently asked.

"I... couldn't stop it," his voice cracked. "It just--"

"I know," she whispered. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I have a

lungi

for you,

Sahib

," Sarika said, holding it out. "Shall I put it on for you?"

"Where is my robe?" he snapped, voice edged with annoyance.

"This is all I have nearby," she replied, shaking her head in Indian fashion. "We are only walking down the hall." Ben grimaced. "I can bring your robe after your bath, if you wish," she added mildly.

"I should hope so," he muttered.

She bowed. "Lift your hands, please," she said, quieter this time.

He turned away from the girls, the smooth curves of his glistening backside catching Becca's eye, and for a moment, she didn't look away. Sarika approached him, wrapping the soft white cotton around his hips, knotting it low.

"Why, you look like a native!" Ursula crowed lightly. "Shall we get you to the bath,

sahib

? Sarika, be a dear and draw it for us."

"Already prepared, Miss Ursula," Sarika replied. She dipped her head and stepped toward the door.

"You're marvelous," Ursula said as she passed Sarika. Becca caught their brief shared glance, leaving Sarika smiling as she turned to lead the way.

"I can bathe myself," Ben muttered.

"I'm sure," said Ursula lusciously. "But you know how strict she is. Wouldn't want to disobey."

Becca moved to his side. "May I help you to the bath?" she asked, offering him her arm. He took it.

She guided him through the corridor to the small tiled bath chamber off the servants' hall. The walls were cool and the light dimmer here, filtered through a high transom window, infused with the scent of sandal soap. At the far end, a copper tub, squat and shallow, sat ready, steam rising from its surface.

Sarika turned to Ben. "May I?"

He didn't answer, but raised his arms slightly. She neared him and untied the

lungi

, keeping her eyes low as she peeled the damp cloth from his hips and folded it quickly. She turned to Becca.

"Is this your first time bathing a boy?" Sarika asked, matter-of-fact, as she handed Becca a cloth and soap. She looked to be about Becca's age, but something in her manner made her seem older. Her faded cotton sari was pinned tightly at the shoulder, the fabric worn thin. Her face was kind, though her dark eyes rarely blinked.

Becca gave a startled little laugh. "Why, y-yes, of course."

Sarika nodded, not unkindly. "Make sure you clean him properly," she said, adjusting the brass basin beside the tub. "Be thorough between the legs...don't forget to retract the foreskin and clean underneath."

Becca blanched. From behind, Ursula snorted again.

"I assure you," Sarika replied with a mild roll of her eyes, "the governess will check." She cast a quick glance over Becca's shoulder -- presumably at Ursula -- and allowed herself a small smile.

"I can bathe myself," Ben protested.

"You know very well you cannot," Sarika replied, a warm smile briefly crossing her face. At this Becca shifted awkwardly, and Sarika's expression quickly turned formal again.

"Very well," she said, looking back to Becca. "Unless... you need my further assistance?"

"That will do, dear," said Ursula. Sarika smiled flatly and nodded. She hesitated -- her eyes lingering on Ben, or so it seemed to Becca -- before turning toward the door. It shut quietly behind her.

Ben stood naked, hands covering himself. "Come," Becca said, her voice softer than she intended. "Let me help you in."

She reached for him. Ben didn't move at first. Then, slowly, he reached out with one hand, letting her take his arm -- it was hot and sweaty, as was her hand. She supported him at the elbow and waist, easing him down into the bath.

He let out a sharp breath as the water touched him, then sank lower, his knees bending uneasily beneath him. Water lapped over the sides and onto the tile floor, even though the small tub was barely deep enough to submerge his hips. He continued to cover himself with his hands.

"Such care, Becca. You've missed your calling," Ursula spoke from behind.

"I don't know why you've come," Becca said. "You're of no use."

Ursula laughed lightly. "You know why I've come. Same as you."

"That's not what this is," Becca snapped. She gathered the soap, basin, and rag, then knelt beside the tub. She looked at Ben. "Shall I begin?"

Ben nodded. She lathered the soap into the cloth between her palms and rubbed it into his chest, then his arms.

Ursula drew closer, circling the room. "Shall I do his hair?" she asked.

"No," Ben said. His voice was quiet, but resolute. Becca giggled at this. Ben's eyes softened as he looked at her before awkwardly turning away. Ursula, temporarily silenced, leaned against the wall with a sniff.

Becca poured water over his head, then dipped the cloth again and lifted one of his legs by the ankle, washing down from the knee to the foot. She repeated the same with the other. Her hand slowed at the curve of his calf, surprised by the smoothness, the quiet intimacy of the task.

"Erm," she mumbled as her insides lurched. "I believe I need you to stand now." Ursula advanced a pace.

Ben's face turned toward the wall. "No," he said again, quieter this time.

"It's all right, Ben," she soothed him with the cloth. "It's not your fault, but you're terribly soiled, down there."

"I can bathe myself," he repeated.

"But the governess--" Ursula began.

"I said no!" he shouted.

Becca placed a hand on his shoulder, without the cloth. "You can say no," Becca said softly. "But I'd rather you be clean, and I think you would too."

He didn't answer. He stared into the water, lips tight. Then, slowly, he placed both hands on the rim and pushed himself upright.

On her knees, Becca found herself suddenly at eye-level with his penis, closer than she'd anticipated. She felt momentarily paralyzed, her eyes drawn to it helplessly, observing details she had not noticed before -- the wild hair, the peculiar, delicate texture, the testicles drooping unevenly in his goosefleshed scrotum. The thing hung about four or five inches low, with the girth of a broom handle; the hood tapered to a strange knot, the water trickling off it in small, hesitant drops. A shiver ran up her thighs and heat rose in her face as she let loose a small breathy laugh. "Thank you," she said stiltedly.

Ursula had covered her mouth with her hand, her elbow folded in the other. She said nothing.

Becca once again picked up the bar of soap and rubbed it against the cloth. She cleaned up his left leg from behind, stopping just before his buttock; she did the same on the right. "I'm moving higher now," she announced. as she brought the cloth to the top of his buttocks. She kept her movements consistent, ignoring the inner sensations arising as she felt his firm cheek in her hand, drawing him in closer, his manhood dangling and swaying in front of her eyes.

She folded the washcloth to expose a clean section, applied more soap, and with her free hand, separated his buttocks enough to clean the area thoroughly. The cloth moved precisely down the cleft, and she felt him tense slightly as she wiped his rear passage, carefully but firm, pressing her fingertip into what she believed was his lower opening, eliciting from him a few discomfited noises.

"Is that all right?" she asked affectionately, looking up at him. Ben nodded once. A small sound escaped his throat.

She looked down, nervously tittering.

"The...front, I suppose," she said to him, attempting a smile. She moved the cloth along the inside of his thigh, working upward. His skin was wet and warm, slippery from the bath. Her hand paused at the crease where thigh met hip, then continued between his legs, the cloth bunching.

With it she cupped his testicles, delicately rolling them in her palm. The cloth shifted slightly as she cleaned him, tracing around the softer skin. Her hand followed along the inner curves of his pelvic muscles, scrubbing a bit into the hair. With a steady inhale she grew bolder, cleaning underneath his shaft with both hands, then tenderly rolling back his foreskin with the cloth.

"Well, well," she heard Ursula say. "Someone appreciates the attention."

He was hardening.

Becca pulled back her hands, perhaps too suddenly, dropping the cloth in the tub. Although in shock she marveled at how quickly it had achieved fullness, how much larger it was. Ben frowned and lowered his chin, feebly trying to conceal himself.

"Oh, Ben," Ursula said teasingly, stepping closer. "Again?" She clicked her tongue with mock disapproval. "After everything the governess did to cleanse you? You are truly hopeless."

Becca flinched. "Ursula -- don't."

But Ursula ignored her, bending close to meet her cousin's eyes. "You do understand," she said, her voice lilting and honeyed, "that we can't let this... condition fester. She was very clear. The impurity must be expelled."

Ben snarled and plopped back into the water with a splash that soaked Becca to the waist. She squeaked in surprise, blinking back droplets. He pulled his knees into his chest and shut his eyes.

"I could help," Ursula continued, almost to herself. "Just as she did. Just to make sure it doesn't corrode your spirit..."

Ben's eyes opened just a slit.

"Stop," Becca said. But she did nothing to stop her.

Ursula turned to her, one brow raised. "You saw what happened. He can't help it. He'll just keep... filling up. Unless someone helps him."

Becca shook her head. "He's had enough."

Ursula's eyes stayed on her. "Or you have?" The room went quiet except for the drip of water from Ben's hair.

Ursula leaned in and placed a kiss on Ben's neck. "Tell us, cousin," she whispered. "Do you

really

want to be clean?"

Becca stood up, every nerve in her body alight. "Ursula! Stop this at once!"

Ursula didn't answer. Instead, she was unfastening the narrow belt at her waist, fingers moving slowly down the line of pearl buttons at her throat. One by one, the buttons came free. Her blouse opened, shifting with each breath. She pulled it from her skirt and folded it over a nearby stool.

Becca's stomach tightened. "What are you

doing?

" she asked, voice thin. Her sister giggled. "Ursula, don't--"

"Why not?" she asked, calmly. "You've done your part. Let me do mine."

Ben's body had gone stiff, but his eyes drifted toward Ursula.

Ursula worked the back of her skirt next, unfastening the hook with a soft metallic click, letting it fall around her ankles. She stepped free of it, never breaking eye contact with her sister. Her chemise clung to her with damp patches under the arms.

"I'm serious!" Becca snapped. "Stop this at once!"

Ursula laughed derisively. "You tell me when and where on God's green Earth an opportunity like this might present itself again," she grinned, "and I might consider it."

Becca's mouth had gone dry. "This isn't right."

Ursula laughed quietly. "That's the difference between us, then. I don't care if it's right."

She lifted the shift over her head in a single motion. Her body stood bare in the dim steam-light, breasts rounded and high, hips wide, a full and sandy brown patch of pubic hair. She didn't cover herself; she simply turned, placed one hand on Ben's shoulder for balance as she lifted a leg, and lowered herself in behind him.

The water rose. Ben shifted forward slightly with a huff.

"He doesn't want this," Becca said.

"Then let him say so," Ursula replied. Her arms rested along the rim of the tub behind him, her legs extended around his, caging him in.

Becca felt her throat tighten. She hated that her sister would do this. She hated that her sister

could

do this.

Ben still hadn't spoken. His face was still lowered, his eyes shadowed beneath wet hair. Ursula leaned forward, close enough that Becca could see the press of her chest against his back.

"Tell me, cousin," she cooed. "Are you ready for a cleansing?"

She placed her hands on his shoulders, then dragged her fingernails down his arms until she reached his knees. She scratched lightly there, then traced down his thighs into the water. Becca could see her hands moving playfully beneath the surface; they rose again along his sides, palmed his chest, then settled neatly in his lap.

Ursula's eyes brightened. She turned to her sister with an expression of surprised delight.

"Oh my," she purred. "It's so...wonderful."

Becca's hands balled into fists at her sides, her face burning with fury, as a slow, uneven breath escaped from Ben's nose.

"There we are," continued Ursula, resting her chin on his shoulder, looking down. The water lapped against the copper as her hand moved faster. "Is this providing the relief you sought?"

Ben declined to answer, but his breath grew faster. He leaned back slightly into his cousin, lolling his head back. His body shifted. He let his knees sink deeper into the water, straightening his legs and pressing his hips back against her.

Ursula inhaled sharply through her mouth, her lips parting. "Oh, you've touched my--" she stopped in mid-sentence. Her breath quickened, falling into rhythm with his movement.

"Oh," she said deeply. "Oh my."

"Ursula," Becca said faintly.

Ursula's eyes had closed. She was grinding into Ben's back as she manipulated him from the front. Ben's breathing had graduated into low grunts. With her left hand, Ursula clutched his right pectoral, pulling him harder into her. She was moaning into his back, her lips pressed against his skin, messily kissing it with tongue. Her moans grew louder; his grunts did too.

Water was spilling over the sides, flooding into Becca's shoes. She hardly noticed, mesmerized as she was, caught in a vortex of envy, shame, and hunger. She noticed Ben's face begin to contort; suddenly he looked up to her face, then to her breasts. She looked in the mirror that hung on the wall behind him. Her blouse was drenched; her nipples protruded visibly.

"Ben," Becca said faintly.

Something sudden and involuntary overcame him, as his eyes bulged and his neck twitched. She raised her eyebrows sympathetically, as if she could comfort him.

Ben spread out fully, lying on top of Ursula, practically submerging her. He moaned forcefully. Becca watched as his penis seemed to strain before releasing a thick drool of sperm that oozed out of his aperture, accumulating then dripping down the side of his member.

Ursula let loose a series of sharp, helpless sounds of pleasure before slumping against the back of the tub, her arms draped loosely around Ben's torso. "Oh dear," she said after.

His head rested against her shoulder, barely keeping afloat in the shallow water. Neither of them moved. The water had gone still again. Her cheek pressed to the side of his head. She looked drunk -- eyes half-lidded, lips apart, arms limp. They weren't embracing so much as tangled together by sheer exhaustion, too heavy to separate, nothing tender about it.

There was a light rap at the door.

Ursula jolted upright, water sloshing. Ben stirred in her arms, his eyes dazed and fearful.

Becca froze, heart hammering in her throat. The knock came again.

"Yes?" she rasped.

The door cracked open an inch, just enough for Sarika to slip a hand through. Draped over her arm were two neatly folded towels and two white linen robes.

"For Master Ben," came her quiet voice. "And for Miss Ursula." She didn't step inside, but held the bundle there, waiting.

Becca crossed the room and took it from her. Sarika's eyes flicked past her shoulder, then quickly down again. She said nothing more. Becca shut the door and turned back to the tub, hands shaking.

Ursula's expression melted instantly from fear to relief. She let out a low, indulgent laugh, placing her cheek back against Ben's shoulder, mocking their earlier fright. "Good heavens," she giggled, "I thought it was the governess come to catch us."

Becca's frowned. "And if it had been? What would you have done then?"

Ursula rose from and stepped out of the bath, water streaming freely from her bare skin onto the tile, making no effort to cover herself as she crossed toward Becca. Taking the towels, Ursula smiled carelessly. "We've nothing to hide. We were only helping him, after all."

Becca turned away sharply, teeth set, refusing to indulge her further.

Ursula moved languidly back toward Ben, now sitting motionless in the water, and rested her towel around her neck. She knelt beside the tub and coaxed him gently to sit.

"Come now, love, we'll get you dry," she cooed, rubbing the towel over his head with slow, lingering strokes. His shoulders slumped. "Oh, but that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Becca moved quickly forward and snatched the towel. "That's enough," she said. "Let me finish."

Ursula looked at her, smiling again. "Why of course," she responded.

Becca sighed, and turned to Ben. "Now, now," she said. "Up you get."

He stood uncertainly, arms drawn across his torso, his head lowered, cheeks pink, and he began to shiver. Ursula, standing in the corner, casually dried her hair with the towel. She had put on the robe, the linen cloth absorbing the moisture from her skin. Her gaze lingered on Ben's naked body, a mischievous smile on her lips.

"Positively fetching," she remarked. "You're quite irresistible, aren't you?"

"You're impossible," Becca muttered as she dried Ben quickly but carefully, overly conscious of where she placed her hands. "You know that?"

"And I adore you," Ursula beamed.

Becca dropped the towel, lifted the linen robe, and helped him slip into it, tying the sash securely around his waist. She gripped his elbow firmly. "Let's get you back to your room."

Ben nodded silently, following her lead, eyes blankly ahead. Ursula collected her things, trailing behind at a leisurely pace, humming sweetly. Becca moved briskly, pulse throbbing at her temples. She felt Ursula's eyes on her back.

At Ben's bedroom door, Becca paused, pivoting to face her sister. She met Ursula's eyes evenly, voice carefully neutral. "Thank you, dear. I can manage from here."

"I don't doubt it," she drawled. Becca clenched her jaw tighter. "Good-bye, my love," she said to Ben, brushing her fingers across his back as she passed. "I do believe you've cleansed me as well."

His eyes flashed at her, before looking back down. She continued down the hall, humming her happy tune.

Becca let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Rotating back to Ben, she saw he was watching her silently, his face pale and drawn.