Boarding School Encounter - Cover

Boarding School Encounter

Copyright© 2016 by mypenname3000

Chapter 5: Henrietta Buggered by the Headmistress

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 5: Henrietta Buggered by the Headmistress - Henrietta, a young girl attending a boarding school in 19th Century England, comes in contact with a lesbian alien and her nubile tentacles!

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Lesbian   Fiction   Science Fiction   Aliens   Spanking   Light Bond   Group Sex   Orgy   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Sex Toys   Squirting   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Analingus   Teacher/Student  

“What were you and Peony doing in the bath?” Tabitha asked as she dropped her nightgown from last night into the laundry basket in our shared room. Mine followed.

We stood naked in our small room, my feet dancing on the cold floorboards and my teeth chattering. It was so warm in the bath and so cold in here. It turned out that the girls of our dorm had our own Roman style bath, a large pool of piped up spring water. While our school lacked electricity, it had plumbing. The water was so relaxing, especially with nervous, petite, and virginal Peony pressed against me.

“Kissing,” I answered, my cheeks going red as I remembered how wonderful Peony felt, our wet bodies pressed together as she leaned against the edge of the bath, our hips humping, our clitorides rubbing together.

One of my pussy tentacles fucking Peony’s cunny.

That was delicious, Merita, the lesbian alien who had merged with my body, whispered in my mind. It was because of her that I had the four tentacles that sprouted out of my sex. They were long and flexible, and as sensitive as my nipples. It was such a delight to ream them in and out of a girl’s cunny or to sodomized her bowels. I had plucked my roommate and lover Tabitha’s maidenhead then Peony’s in the bath only minutes ago.

“It looked like you were doing more than kissing her,” Tabitha said, a wicked twinkle in her eye. “She was gasping so hard. She had quite the release, a powerful cure for her hysterics.”

“I may have used a tentacle on her,” I said.

Tabitha’s eyes widened. “Henrietta, you can’t do that.”

I blinked. It was the first time since I met Tabitha yesterday that she had called me by my first name. Usually, she called me Etta. I stared at her as I pulled out a clean camisole from my chest of drawers, eager to dress.

“If someone finds out about your tentacles and freaks out...” Tabitha bit her lip. “They might kick you out of the school or something. I mean...” Tabitha’s eyes flicked down to my blonde curls adorning my naked groin. “I understand. And I guess Peony must too, but ... what about the other girls? And the teachers?”

“I know.” I sighed, pulling the camisole over my head and letting it fall across my small breasts and down to my hips. I pulled it down so it covered my mid thigh. “But it was so sexy. Everyone was making love around us. And Geneva tongued your sphincter while rubbing your cunny, and your boobs were shaking, and Peony was so delicious and timid and afraid and vulnerable and enticing. I couldn’t resist. I lost control.”

My stomach fell. “What am I going to do tomorrow? And the next day? We’ll have the communal bath every morning. And every morning I’ll be surrounded by sex. Wonderful, delicious, forbidden passion. Sapphic love. It’s sinful and I love it. And you know what happens when my cunny gets excited.”

“Your pussy tentacles come out to play,” Tabitha sighed.

Which is why we need to find the core of my ship, Merita said. As soon as possible. Before another human encounters it.

How will that help my tentacle problem? You have to possess me until the nanites cure me. When I found Merita’s crashed spaceship last night, an egg-shaped object in a crater which I mistook for a falling star, I tripped and broke my neck. I would have died if she didn’t save me. But the nanites—which I didn’t understand what those were, but apparently they were little automatons inside my body repairing my wound, like little wind-up toys or something—were rejected by my body. Merita had to possess me to let them work. How long will that take?

It’s going slower than I hoped. It’ll be days. Week or more.

“People are going to find out,” I groaned, sinking onto my bed while I watched Tabitha pull on her stockings up her smooth, pale thighs, her red hair swishing about her shoulders and her breasts jiggling beneath her camisole. Her nipples were hard, the fabric thin enough to make them dark shadows that I wanted to suckle on.

My pussy itched. The tentacles squirmed inside of me as I grew wet.

This was no good. Everything was turning me on. I grew hysterical so easily, and I wanted to be cured. Right now. I had orgasmed in the bath as I pumped my tentacle in and out of Peony’s virgin cunt, and I wanted more.

Needed more. It was so hot.

Sex is wonderful, Merita agreed. On my home planet, I would make love to five or more females all day, just exploring each others holes with our tentacles, loving each other, and cumming over and over. It was a wonderful way to pass the day.

Images of the alien, sapphic orgy shot through my mind. Merita in the center, her hairless, purple body writhing, the four tentacles, which sprouted from her hips and not her pussy, undulating as she caressed her lovers. Their skins were all various hues of lilac and purple. Some had larger breasts, other smaller, their nipples hard. They licked and sucked and fingered and tentacled each other, gasping and moaning. I could feel them.

My tentacles burst from my pussy, shooting out from beneath my camisole, waving purple against my skin. “Merita,” I groaned. “Don’t remember that stuff. I’m trying to control my tentacles, not let them out.”

Sorry, sorry.

Tabitha stopped pulling up her second stocking and stared at the writhing tentacles. She squirmed, lust burning in her green eyes. I could almost hear her thoughts. Wow, I love those tentacles, and they’re dripping in Etta’s juices. It would be so hot to lick them right now. We don’t need to go to classes. We can be truant and enjoy ourselves.

I concentrated and my tentacles retracted back inside of me. Tabitha let out a sigh. “We couldn’t have been truant,” I said absently, “we have to get to class.”

Tabitha blinked and cocked her head, staring at me.

“What?” I frowned.

“Nothing, nothing. I’m guess I’m that transparent. I just love your tentacles so much. They’re just wonderful. Especially when they’re touching me.” Tabitha fell back on her bed, squeezing her thighs together. “Oh, my hysterics are back. I’m all fluttery and jittery. And now we have to get to class.”

“Sorry,” I said.

I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to arouse you, Henrietta, or sweet Tabitha.

“Merita’s sorry, too.”

Tabitha shook her head and then sat up. “It must be wild to have an alien living in your mind.”

“She does show me naughty things sometimes,” I admitted and grabbed my stockings. I pulled them on quickly. “We better hurry. We’re dawdling. We don’t want to get a demerit.”

And when are we going out to look for the core?

Lunch, I sighed. I can skip it. But not breakfast. I am starving. My stomach proved me honest by growling. Okay. It’ll be just a few hours. Then we’ll find it. I have the scanner in my skirt. I had taken it from her ship before we left it last night.

After pulling on my stockings, I slipped on the two layers of petticoats. Our school uniform lacked bloomers of any sort, which I found strange. I felt so naked beneath my petticoats. But now I understood what sort of school this was. I had a feeling that all sort of debauched, lesbian behavior occurred during school hours under the guise of curing “female hysterics.” I had always been taught that women did not feel the low, debased lusts like men, that we were purer creatures.

It was such a lie. We had them, too, we just called it something else and pretended it was a medical problem. But I didn’t mind. The idea of a man touching me was far less appealing than a woman. I liked women.

I feared I was turning lesbian. No. I was a lesbian. And there was nothing wrong with that. No matter what the preacher or the government said.

That’s right, Merita agreed. You’re puritanical religion and mores are so primitive. Sexuality is never wrong. It should always be explored.

I nodded my head and grabbed my ankle-length, gray skirt, pulling it on over my petticoats. The two layers gave me more hips than I had in real life. I pulled on my white blouse next, buttoning it up to my neck like a proper woman and tucking it into my skirt. Then I combed my hair while Tabitha tamed her wild, fiery mane. I pulled my blonde curls into pigtails—my preferred style—tying them with pink ribbons. Tabitha didn’t tie back her hair but let it fall in natural waves around her freckled face. We laced up our heeled shoes and were ready for class.

The other girls of our floor bustled out of their rooms, wearing identical uniforms, their hair styled in different manner. Some were braided, like Prefect Geneva’s platinum-blonde plait, others loose, like Peony’s black hair. The shy girl glanced at me, her hands clutched before her, then she darted down the hallway.

“Well, she looks like a startled doe,” Tabitha muttered, giving me a worried look.

I swallowed and nodded my head. What if she talked? That wouldn’t be good. I bit my lip as Tabitha and I held hands. We walked with the other girls, a general buzz from talking filling the corridor. Our dormitory lay on the fifth and highest floor. As we descended the stairs, girls from the fourth and third floors joined us, all with big smiles and rosy cheeks.

I bet they had their own Roman style baths.

I took a deep breath, scared to face my first day of classes at the Kensington Boarding School. The stone walls of the mansion reverberated with talking as we swept down the stairs to the first floor. We followed the tide of girls through the halls towards the dining room for breakfast. A few of the school’s maids scurried past us in their black-and-white uniforms.

I wondered if they wore bloomers beneath their skirts?

My pussy itched and my tentacles squirmed. My nipples hardened in my blouse as a youthful maid, two years my senior, walked past, her cheeks apple red and her blouse straining to contain her large breasts.

“Wow, she is ample,” Tabitha whispered to me. “I bet they are nice to pillow on.”

Uh-huh, purred Merita. She conjured flashes of the maid, naked and lying on a bed, her large tits forming soft mounds that beckoned.

Merita, stop that, I groaned as the heat increased between my thighs.

Sorry, sorry. I’m not used to controlling my desires.

Well, it’s not weird on your planet to have tentacles, but it is on mine.

I took long, slow breaths, clenching Tabitha’s hand. My friend gave me a support smile, her lips so lush and sweet and I knew just how kissable they were and how wonderful her hands were and how amazing it was to...

Nope. Stop that.

Ahead of us was Nurse Paige’s infirmary on Tabitha’s side of the hallway. The door opened and the nurse stepped out, a big smile on her lips, her cheeks rosy. Though she was only in her twenties, she had a motherly air about her, accented by her curvy body. Her smile swept over the girls walking by, many greeting her with polite, “Good morning, Nurse Paige.”

“Morning, girls,” the blonde nurse would reply.

And then she snagged Peony out of the crowd. The black-haired girl gasped as Nurse Paige, with dexterity that had to come with practice, hiked up both Peony’s skirt and two layers of petticoats, plunging her hand between the girl’s thighs and rubbing at her cunny.

“Yes, yes, you need to have your hysterics cured, my dear,” Nurse Paige beamed, and then she frowned. “Although, what happened to your maidenhead, child?”

Peony’s cheeks went red as she squirmed on the Nurse’s pumping fingers. Giggles erupted from the surrounding girl. I groaned as waves of heat washed through me. Yesterday, I had my first orgasm at the hands of Nurse Paige during my physical. She licked my cunny and clitoris until I had my paroxysms of bliss.

She was a lesbian who enjoyed molesting the students under the guise of a medical treatment.

As Tabitha and I passed, the nurse’s arm hooked out and seized Tabitha, pulling my friend close. “And you have the fiery blood of the Celts in you. I know that means you need to have your hysterics cured.”

Our fingers parted. I turned to my friend, trying to snatch her hand, but the tide of girls carried me away.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Tabitha protested as Nurse Paige deftly lifted her skirt and petticoats with one hand and plunged between my lover’s thighs. “Oh, oh, Nurse Paige.”

“Hmm, another girl that’s lost her maidenhead.” The Nurse tutted her tongue.

“Sorry, Etta,” Tabitha moaned. “I-I’ll catch up.”

I swallowed and nodded, forced along with the other girls to breakfast while my lover was fingered by the nurse. Her moans and Peony’s echoed over the buzz of conversation. My poor cunny was on fire. Tentacles squirmed in my depths, eager to burst out and play. It wasn’t fair.

I was so horny. Why did Nurse Paige choose Tabitha? I could have had so much fun with them. Nurse Paige could have plunged her fingers into my cunny, and her thumb could have rubbed my clitoris. I would gasp and moan and have my orgasm. Then I wouldn’t be so wet and horny and squirmy. And—

Tentacles flowed out of my pussy. They wrapped about my thighs, smearing pussy juices onto my flesh and stockings. I groaned, my tentacles so sensitive. I closed my eyes for a moment, fighting to get them to retract and grateful for my skirt and layers of petticoats so no one could see them.

My brow furrowed and the tentacles, reluctantly, slithered back inside of me. I gasped as they moved against the walls of my pussy, the friction delicious. And then my cunny relaxed, no longer stretched wide open by them.

I sighed. If Nurse Paige had fingered me, they would have sprouted.

I know, it is terrible, Henrietta. I wish you could have all the fun you want. I’m sorry.

It’s not your fault. I would be dead without you. I took a deep breath. Besides, I am developing feelings for you. I’ll be ever so sad when you leave.

Me, too. You and Tabitha are so sweet.

As we reached the dining hall, I imagined I could hear Tabitha moaning her pleasure. Yes, yes, yes, Nurse Paige. Cure my hysterics. Your fingers are so deep into my cunny. Oh, yes. Oh, wow.

Her words sounded so clear in my imagination. I sighed, biting my lip. I had to stop dwelling on sex. It was breakfast. I looked around for a place to sit, all the tables ladled with platters of sausage and bacon and toast and jams.

“You can sit with us,” Jeane called. She was the tallest girl on my floor. She patted an empty seat at the table beside her. There was a second seat open that Tabitha could take.

“Thanks,” I said, taking a seat. I squirmed to get comfortable, my clitoris aching between my thighs.

“Lucky Peony and Tabitha getting fingered by Nurse Paige,” sighed Darcy who sat across from me, a pink bow surmounting the top of her brown hair, holding it back off her shoulders. She was an older girl than me, seventeen. “Last year, she only fingered me twice on the way to breakfast.”

“But she was always fingering Marguerite,” Maria said, another older girl. She had such beautiful dimples as she smiled, which set off her sandy-blonde curls.

“Who?” I asked.

“Oh, she graduated last year. I hear she married a banker and hired a delicious maid who knows how to use her tongue.” Maria giggled. “I know all my maids will have to be so skilled when I set up my house.”

“It is a shame we have to marry men,” I sighed.

They all giggled. “But if we didn’t, then who would make the money?” asked Phoebe, a new girl like me. She sat beside Maria. “I have several suitors back home. All three are wealthy, even if they are such boors. Not like this place. It is so ... stimulating.”

Your people are so primitive. Women should be free to earn their own money and marry each other if they want.

I agree, Merita. I would end up marrying a rich boor, too, probably one of my father’s business associates. Then I would have a nice home, raise his children, and hoped I lived close enough to Tabitha so we could have “tea” everyday.

We joked about the value of a maid who knew how to use her tongue and a cook who knew how to use a carrot, which I thought was wicked. Tabitha appeared after ten or so minutes, her face flushed, and a huge grin on her face. She plopped down in the empty chair and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before piling her plate with sausage and kippers.

“Boy, Nurse Paige really knows how to ready a girl for the day.”

Darcy gave an enthusiastic nod.

After breakfast, it was time for class. I would have Math with Miss Maurine Short, Natural Science with Madalyn Virgo, English with Miss Delilah Averill, then lunch—Please find the core, Henrietta—followed by Latin with Miss Erma Northrop, and last Philosophy with Miss Marilynn Gully. Tabitha shared my schedule, which I found to be a relief, but other girls had different ones and the older girls had a few different courses.

“Do you have any idea where these rooms are?” I asked Tabitha as we left the dining hall, the maids coming in to clear up the mess from breakfast.

“Vaguely,” Tabitha said. “I did arrive the day before you, and I took the time to explore. All the classrooms are on the first and second floors. And I recall that Miss Maurine’s classroom is on the first floor and ... well, there she is.”

Tabitha pointed to the woman with her black hair twisted into ringlets heading down the hall. We hurried after. We couldn’t get lost if we followed our teacher to class. Which made us the first too arrive. We took seats up front, our back straights. Text books lay on each of the tables, the covers battered and worn by years of eager students.

I swallowed. Arithmetic had never been my strongest suite. But the Kensington Boarding School believed in educating young women as strenuously as young men. Many of its graduates would apply for school at Oxford or Cambridge while others used the prestige and refinement to help land a better marriage match.

And then hirer a maid who knew how to use her tongue.

As much as I hated math, there was one nice thing about it—the subject was so boring sex was driven from my thoughts. Merita was no help, despite how advanced her people were. Her people used base eight math. I had trouble understanding just what that meant, but Merita had no understanding of our base ten math. I didn’t even know our math was base ten.

When the class ended, I had a headache.

Tabitha’s green eyes were equally glazed. I took her hand and the pair of us navigated the school to the natural science classroom. It took us a few false starts to find Miss Madalyn’s classroom. It turned out to be on the first floor, not the second, and we were almost late.

“There you are, girls,” beamed Miss Madalyn, a woman in a black dress, her brown hair in a bun, and a friendly smile on her lips. “You must be Tabitha,” she said, giving my friend a warm, inviting hug. “So that makes you Henrietta.”

“It does, Miss Madalyn,” I said before she swept me up into her embrace.

She had a wonderful smell about her, an exciting perfume. I was so aware of her body pressed against mine, her hands on the small of my back as she rubbed her cheek on mine. A wonderful tingle passed through me.

I wondered just how friendly she was as a teacher.

“Now, let’s get started on learning,” she said, breaking the kiss. “We’ll begin with geology. I believe that will give you a great foundation when we move into inorganic chemistry in a few weeks. Now, on the table on the back I have many samples of stones...”

She lectured us on the three types of rocks—igneous, metamorphic, and sedimentary—showing us examples of each. We handled them and stared at the grains with magnifying lens. She had rocks from all over England and beyond, her voice so excited as she talked about it.

Teaching was clearly her passion.

“Okay,” she said as we stood to leave, “I want you all to write an essay tonight on what your favorite type of rock is and why.”

“Yes, Miss Madalyn,” we all said as we marched out.

Tabitha yawned and stretched. “Boy, only two classes down and I’m already so tired. I just want to go up to our room and—”

She clamped her jaw shut as a maid bustled up to us in her black dress, white apron tied across the front, and a small, white cap resting on her brown curls. She had doe eyes and a polite smile on her face as she stopped before me.

“Miss Henrietta, I’m to escort you to the Headmistress’s office.”

Tabitha groaned. My stomach clenched. “M-me?”

“Yes, Miss.” The maid gave me a comforting smile, her eyes apologetic. “I am sorry, Miss, but I have my instructions. This way.”

“But I have English next.”

“Miss Delilah will be informed on the reason you are missing her class. You will not be in trouble.” Her tone implied, Not in any more trouble. Poor thing, summoned to the headmistress’s office on her first day, and such an innocent lamb. What could she have done?

“Nothing,” I muttered, and then my stomach twisted more. Peony. What if Peony told Nurse Paige about my tentacles?

I threw a look over my shoulder at Tabitha. She watched me with apprehension as I followed the maid down the hall. My heart beat faster and faster with each step. I chewed on my lower lip as the maid led me from the bustle of the students leaving our class and down to the first floor. Our steps echoed through the halls. The maid walked with a stiff back and a brisk stride.

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