The Governess of Bengal

Becca's eyes opened. Darkness had enveloped the room. For a moment she lay confused, disoriented. Ben slept quietly against her, legs entwined, their bodies warm beneath the sheets. Her eyes widened and her heart beat faster as she realized where she was, who she was with; she could feel the softness of his parts pressed against her behind. Distractedly, she turned her head toward the foot of the bed, where a black silhouette eerily stood.

She gasped in a terror.

"Please don't wake him yet," the governess said softly. "We don't want to startle him."

"

Mistress!

" she whispered hoarsely, sliding away from Ben, taking the duvet with her. "This isn't...we didn't...I didn't--"

"Hush," she replied. "I know."

"You, you know?" she stuttered in panic. "What do you know?"

"That you're innocent, my dear. Now, your sister on the other hand..."

Sarika

, she thought.

"Do you really believe there is anything that happens in this household of which I am unaware?" she asked, as if reading her mind.

"I, I suppose not, mistress."

The silhouette went as still and silent as stone, her presence felt more than seen in the dimness of the room.

"Do you remember me from London?" the governess asked quietly.

"Er, no, mistress."

"I remember you. And your sister. You were both very young when I left England with the Hawthornes, these Hawthornes. The three of you used to play together, you know. Did you realize I've been working with Ben since he was only six?"

"I-I think so, yes," Becca responded, tightening the duvet around herself.

"He didn't speak then," the governess continued softly, as though speaking more to herself than to Becca. "And he suffered frightful episodes. They hired me, fresh out of training. I was no older than you are now, and they handed me their damaged boy and told me to raise him into a proper man. His father is a sterner man than your own, I should say. Unyielding."

Becca swallowed, unsure of what to say.

"Despite our progress, the older Ben grew, the more unsuitable he seemed to them," the governess continued bitterly. "I suspect they even blame me. The mother won't speak with me anymore. She scarcely speaks to him."

"Oh," Becca murmured sympathetically, though she wasn't certain why.

"Forgive my familiarity," the governess apologized. "I've had some whiskey."

Becca didn't reply.

"Now they want him to return to London. But he isn't ready. You've seen him: some say he's cursed. Others think he's gifted. It complicates things -- he's not quite one thing or another."

She sighed. "I've tried every treatment imaginable: cold baths at dawn, electric stimulation to the spine, blistering salves, isolation, prayer. I even consulted one of the local

vaidyas

who smeared ash upon his temples and called it healing. Nothing touched it. Nothing changed him." Her voice grew quieter. "Will these enemas make a difference? Who knows. I doubt it. I hope so."

"What about..." Becca hesitated, unsure how to phrase it delicately. "The manual relief?"

The governess laughed unexpectedly, almost amused. "Oh, that? I invented it."

Becca stared, confused and more than a little shocked.

"I simply... wanted to," the governess admitted sheepishly. "He really is so adorable, in his helpless way." She paused thoughtfully. "And I wanted you to witness it."

"Me?" Becca asked quietly. "Why?"

She seemed to consider this. "Two reasons, I suppose. The first? I wanted to... break him," she answered gently, as though confessing. "I realize how that sounds. But he needed to be softened in front of girls his own age. Vulnerability suits him. It was perfect, really." Becca said nothing, only breathing through her mouth.

"The second -- he's calmer with you than I've ever seen him. There's a gentleness between you. Something trusting." She paused again. "If he's ever to become a man, he must come to know women. He must feel what it is to be held, touched, loved. I had thought Sarika could be the one. A mad idea, I know... yet I somehow thought it could work."

She let that sit for a moment. "And then you arrived. I've watched you these last weeks. You are good with him, good for him. You see him, as not many do." Becca blushed. "I thought: a cousin! It is better, in every way. More natural. Fewer complications."

Becca's brow furrowed. "I don't understand."

"Do you want to help him?" she asked, her voice tranquil, almost curious.

Becca blinked. "I," Her throat caught. "I care for him. Of course I do."

The governess tilted her head, her silhouette still. "Sarika has been with men. Willingly. I suspect Ursula has too -- though she hides it behind her doe eyes."

Another pause.

"You, though..."

Becca tensed.

"Tell me, Becca. Are you still untouched?"

She declined to respond.

The governess gave a faint nod, not unkind, but final.

"I thought so." Becca's eyes had adjusted enough to make out a smile on the governess's face.

"Why are you asking me these things?" Becca whispered.

Becca heard her footsteps on the floorboards, her silhouette growing closer.

"I want you to care for him," the silhouette said. "Tonight."

She heard a match strike. The flame illuminated the governess's face as she lit the lamp, turning the wick low. Her hair was now loosened, coiled in a twist over one shoulder. She was wearing a navy blue robe, which had come undone at the waist. It hung from her shoulders, exposing the cleavage of her still-firm breasts, her soft belly, the broad shape of her legs, and her black bush. Becca was unsure if she should say something, so she said nothing.

"Ben? Ben darling," she spoke. "Wake."

Becca felt his body as he was rocked lightly, back and forth. She stayed still, half-buried beneath the duvet.

"Miss Eleanor?" Ben drowsily spoke, before seeming to realize the full predicament. The governess sat on the side of the bed next to him, facing forward, stroking his forehead.

"Ben," she said. "Do you love Becca?"

Becca opened her mouth to protest, then remained silent.

The governess repeated: "Ben?"

Ben looked at his cousin. "Yes."

Becca felt something give way inside her.

"Good...that's very good," she smiled tersely, petting his arm. "You seem comfortable with her."

He nodded. She turned to Becca more directly. "And you, you want to help your cousin, don't you? To become a man?"

Becca was struck dumb. The governess's piercing look demanding nothing less than a

yes

, and at last Becca gave it. The governess offered a single nod and turned her attention back to Ben.

"Splendid," she said, smoothing the sheet where it draped over his leg. "It's settled then. Let's seal it with a kiss."

The two adolescents lay quiet and motionless.

"Come on, then," the governess urged, nudging Ben toward his cousin. "It is the man's role to initiate the kiss."

Ben looked over at Becca. She felt dizzy and weak. Her mouth began to quiver. Tears filled her eyes.

"You see?" the governess said, her fingers drifting lightly over his thigh. "Becca is as new to all this as you are. That is why you must be gentle with one another."

Ben rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. He looked at her, then reached out and held her face. His hand was warm, steadying her.

"Go on," the governess whispered.

He leaned in, touching his lips to hers. It was clumsy, brief, and soft.

Still, Becca felt it: a thrill rising in her chest, a knot tightening in her stomach. It had been her first.

"It can be difficult the first time," said the governess. "Try again." He leaned in again; this time Becca kissed him back, locking onto his lips for a few more seconds.

"Much better," the governess said approvingly, her hand gliding slowly along the bare line of his back. "Again."

Becca's cheeks were flushed, her eyes searching his. Then she gave the slightest nod. Their lips pressed together with more surety than before. Becca's eyes closed, and her hand came to rest at his neck. Ben's breath hitched, but he didn't pull away. For a few long moments, Becca lost herself in the soft warm pressure, kissing his bottom lip repeatedly as he opened his mouth.

When at last they parted, neither spoke. The governess watched them with unreadable eyes. She touched Ben's left shoulder, her fingers trailing down the length of his arm until they reached the edge of the duvet. Slowly she drew it back, uncovering Becca's breasts. Becca's breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling with each breath.

"Touch them," she said.

Ben lifted his hand, unsteadily. He reached out and touched her right breast with the tips of his fingers. Becca exhaled, eyes fluttering.

Without a word, the governess took hold of her other breast, her thumb resting on the nipple. A small gasp escaped Becca, her body stiff at first, unsure whether to resist or submit.

"Massage her," she said quietly, as she worked in slow, practiced circles, "Like so." Ben cupped the breast, following the governess's lead; and the longer the governess kneaded, and the more Ben mirrored her movements, the more the tension in Becca began to slip away. Goosebumps rose on her skin, and her nipples stiffened.

Ben's penis grew the instant he laid hands on his cousin, straining against the sheets, attracting the governess's attention with a grin. Becca felt the duvet and the top sheet slipping lower -- past her waist, then her knees -- until they slid to the floor. Becca looked down at Ben's body. "You see how easily he is aroused," the governess said, observing his erection dreamily. "But, Ben, it is not the same with women. The firmness of her nipple lets you know that she is willing, but she is not ready."

The governess placed her hand on Becca's right thigh. Becca had crossed her legs at the ankles, instinctively guarding her modesty. "Relax," the governess commanded calmly, guiding the right leg outward with her other hand. "Let them open."

"Oh," Becca spoke nervously, her face flushing with embarrassment and excitement.

"Look at her, there," the governess prodded. "Go on."

Ben leaned in, his eyes riveted upon her vagina with quiet fascination. The intensity of it made Becca draw her knees slightly inward, suddenly aware of herself, until the governess opened her wider again.

"Can you see?" the governess asked. "She is warming to you."

"I-I can't," he replied.

"Touch it," she said, drawing his hand into hers, directing it to Becca, who lay there as if rooted, watching it all unfold as though through another's eyes. She had lifted her head, her chin resting on herself, as Ben's slender fingers came to rest atop her vulva.

"

Ahhh

," she let out.

The governess lifted Becca's hand next, leading it toward Ben's erection. Becca took hold of it without prompting. She couldn't help but notice her own reaction when she wrapped her fingers around it: skin unexpectedly soft, shaft surprisingly thick, the warmth of it, the slight flex of muscle when it twitched. The governess lightly gripped her hand around Becca's, moving it up and down, passing the foreskin over and below the glans.

"How does she feel, Ben?" asked the governess.

"Moist," Ben sighed.

"A good start," she replied. "But this is quite the tricky instrument. It may be best for you to watch."

The governess worked Becca's slick, pink folds with her own fingers, delicately rubbing her, inserting one inside. She continued her fingers up and down, opening the skin, stroking Becca's clitoris in slow, deliberate circles. Becca began to moan deeply.

Ben watched intently. He looked over to the governess, whose robe had opened more, exposing her whole right breast.

She smiled. "You should always do this...Most men think only of themselves. They thrust themselves into dry holes, causing the woman discomfort, even pain."

"In fact," she continued, "if you want to do it properly, you should use your tongue. Would you like me to show you?"

Without waiting for a response, the governess climbed over Ben's legs and rested between Becca's. She looked Becca in the eye, as she parted her vagina lips with her two fingers, and then ran a long tongue along the sides of them. Becca gasped as she felt the wet warmth of Miss Eleanor's flat tongue drag from bottom to top, squirmed as she flicked against her clitoris, again, then again and again, in rapid succession. Becca's moans filled the room.

"Now, she is ready." The governess took Becca by the wrists, and with unexpected force, pulled the reluctant girl up from the safety of the bed. Becca's heart raced as Miss Eleanor positioned her upward and over her cousin's hips, kneeling behind her. Miss Eleanor lifted Ben's cock off his stomach with her right hand as she lowered Becca's hips with her left. She fitted his head inside of Becca, then pushed down on her shoulder.

As she slid down, a wholly new sound escaped Becca's lips. Her body, responding to the novel sensation, instinctively began to grind on it, hands on his chest. The governess sat on the edge of the bed, admiring them. She at turns stroked Ben's leg, Becca's hair. Finally she placed her fingers under his ball sack.

Ben reached up to Becca's breasts again, massaging them as before. Becca was moaning repeatedly, her thighs quivering, her head cocking back and forth. The governess took Ben's hand, guiding it downward. She took his thumb and placed it on the clitoris.

"There," she said. "Press her there."

"

Uhhh!

" Becca squealed. "

Nnnnuhh!

"

Despite the immense pleasure she was enjoying, Becca began to shift uncomfortably, as a pressure built inside of her. She felt as if she needed to urinate. A fear of losing control of her bladder crept up. She tried to dismount, but the governess pressed down on her shoulders.

"Not yet, dear," she said. "Leave him nearer,"

"Mistress," she cried gutturally, "I must...I...

Oh!

"

She forced herself off of Ben, pushing back against the governess, falling inside her of robe, into her naked torso. Becca's hips began to spasm as she leaned back, supported by the governess's legs around her.

A rush of fluid gushed from her, dousing Ben in a stream of juice. It lasted for three or four seconds, paused, and returned for another two or three. Ben lifted his head, confused. Becca looked up at the governess, searching her face for answers.

"Goodness," the governess grinned. She caressed Becca's belly, reaching down to pat her on the lips, causing Becca to whimper. "That was unexpected." She slid out from under Becca, walking on the mattress on her hands and knees to Ben, hips swaying like a tiger.

"Pay close attention, dear," she said, looking back at Becca while taking his cock in her hand. "This is how you can finish him well, without the risk of a child. With the lips," -- she kissed the head -- "And tongue" -- she licked the back of it -- "Your whole mouth." She glided it, all the way in, till her lips kissed his pelvis. Ben let out a groan.

She came up with a gasp. "Careful not to touch with your teeth," she panted. She bent her head low, taking him into her mouth again, finger and thumb circled around it. Her head bobbed up and down, her hair looser and wild, his cock glistening in the lamplight.

Becca rested her head on Ben's thigh, watching up close. She lazily caressed his balls, spreading thin the saliva that ran down his pole, incredulous at how far into her mouth Ben's rather long cock could go.

Ben clutched at Becca's head. She moved it closer. Finding her nerve she butterfly kissed his testicles, then with tongue, as she had watched her sister do to his back. Miss Eleanor pulled up, focusing on the head; Becca stretched out her tongue, daintily licking along the base of it, tasting the saltiness of spit and the tartness of come. Miss Eleanor now licked the other side, both of them alternating up and down, left and right. Their tongues touched, accidentally at first, then playfully flicking at each other, with Ben's cock in between. Becca got onto all fours, then took the whole of his cock for herself, mimicking the governess's up-and-down movements.

From behind, with her bum raised high in the air, she felt a familiar tongue parting her once more. She closed her eyes and drifted into a daze, foreign and intoxicating, and moaned long into Ben's cock, humming into it like a musical instrument. She thought of Ursula's tune. The uncomfortable pleasure built up in her once more. She squinted, then took the cock out of her mouth to gasp for air.

"Good God!" she exclaimed, before popping it back inside.

Ben was tousling her hair; suddenly she felt him grasp at it, taking it as a clump in his fist. He raised and lowered her head in rhythm, ever faster, as he made new and frightening sounds. Becca tried to maintain it in her mouth, as she was both manipulated from above and below. She managed to do so, as the sounds grew in frequency and intensity, as she worked her tongue into a U-shape to increase the pressure. A second hand grabbed the side of her face, Ben's noises growing louder, like a man about to terribly sneeze. He went silent, just as Miss Eleanor's tongue found an exquisite new spot, and Becca almost stopped in order to catch another breath, when her mouth filled with a thick, gurgling goo.

"

Mmmm

," she groaned, allowing the semen to slide out of her lips down to his crotch. She persisted, sucking out what she could from his hole, as an expression of the ecstasy she was experiencing in and around her cunt, till she could keep it in no longer.

"Christ!" she cried. "Sweet Jesus!" She fired another discharge, blasting the governess in her astonished face.

"Mercy," Miss Eleanor marveled. "You're a treasure."

She pulled Becca's face to her with firm hands, their lips meeting with unexpected intensity. Becca's breath caught in her throat as the kiss deepened, her thoughts scattering like startled birds. She hadn't expected such audacity, nor the rush of heat that flooded through her body in response. The woman's mouth was soft but insistent against hers, tasting faintly of whiskey and something uniquely her own. When they finally separated, Becca found herself unable to look away from the knowing expression in Miss Eleanor's eyes as they both fell back onto the bed.

As they kissed, the governess began to rub herself, robe fully unfurled. Becca caught movement in her peripheral vision: Ben slowly sinking to his knees between Eleanor's legs. His descent seemed almost ceremonial, as he lowered his body against her white thighs, until his face pressed against her pussy.

She broke away Becca abruptly, her lips leaving with a wet sound that hung in the air between them. Her head jerked up, eyes widening as they set on Ben's prone figure below her. "Ben!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying a note of dismay that made Becca's stomach tighten with sudden anxiety. A smile tugged at Eleanor's mouth, her countenance now one of undisguised pleasure. From his position face-down in her lap came Ben's muffled explanation: "I'm practicing."

The absurdity of it hit both women -- the tension shattering as laughter bubbled up from Becca's chest, mingling with Eleanor's prim chuckle. Their eyes met in shared amusement, and without further hesitation, they leaned back into each other, resuming their kiss with renewed enthusiasm, the brief interruption forgotten as quickly as it had occurred.

They converged, fondling each other with delight, as Ben concentrated on his cunnilingus. Eleanor broke off the kiss again, crying out: "

Oooooo!

" Her head flailed backward; she clutched at Becca's arm. Through the fog of her conflicted feelings, Becca wondered if this was envy or lust.

"Oh God!" Eleanor cried once more, closing her eyes, and screaming through clenched teeth, sending shivers down Becca's spine. Becca was baby kissing Eleanor's face and lips to comfort her when she felt Ben's head lodge itself between her own thighs.