"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."
