Courtney was sitting at the kitchen table when Samantha walked up from the basement, fiercely scowling as she held a tall glass of chocolate milk between tiny hands. Her little jaw was tightly clenched and her gray eyes brightly glittered.

Closing the top basement door behind her Samantha walked over to the coffeepot, snagged a mug and poured herself a cup. Opening the refrigerator she removed a pint carton of ultra heavy cream then closed the door, taking it over with her. Adding a touch of cream to her coffee and two rounded spoons of sugar she stirred her cup.

"Mom?" Courtney softly called out from behind her. "Are you mad at me?"

Looking over her shoulder as she fixed her coffee Samantha replied in a surprised tone that took Courtney aback, "Mad at you? Sweetheart, why would you think I was mad at you?

"You know. Because," she waved a small hand at nothing in particular, tiny fingers fluttering.

"You mean because of what happened downstairs?" Samantha clarified for her daughter.

"Uh-huh," Courtney somewhat sullenly answered.

"No, I'm not mad," Samantha said. "Not even disappointed. Twerp's your slave, after all. You can do pretty much whatever you want with her," she added, walking over and setting her mug down on the table then, pondering a moment, walking back and taking down a second mug.

Courtney's tight little jaw relaxed a bit. Leaning forward, propping small elbows on the table she digested that. Hearing Mom bluntly refer to her cousin as 'Twerp', no matter that that had been the name Courtney had chosen for her slave, came as somewhat as a surprise. As did being told she had carte blanche to do with her slave as she pleased. Even though Mom had already said as much, before, up in her bedroom. Quite the heady sensation, that.

Still, she did catch the qualifier. "Pretty much?" she probed, looking at her Mom.

Samantha nodded, pouring a second cup, this one only halfway. "Yes sweetheart. 'Pretty much'. Don't forget, you're responsible for your slave. Her health and well-being. You don't want to be doing anything, or have her do anything, that winds up, or could wind up, injuring, hurting, wounding or damaging her, after all."

Courtney slowly nodded at that. "Isn't paddling her hurting?" she asked, a bit puzzled and curious.

Samantha topped off the half-filled mug with the heavy cream then added a spoonful of sugar, stirring it well as she responded. "Well baby, there's hurting, and then there's harming. Yes, a paddling hurts. As you're well aware of." Courtney softly blushed, fidgeted a little. Oh yes, she was well aware that paddlings hurt! "But harming, well, would be more like doing something such as breaking a bone, deeply bruising muscle, burning the skin, cutting off her circulation, damaging a nerve. Things like that. Which is why you need to use care with those things used to spank and paddle with, and to bind, restrain and gag her. You could easily harm Twerp by accident if they aren't used correctly."

Again Courtney softly nodded, starting to understand. It was one thing to use a hefty swing to land a sturdy swat to Twerp's bottom, and another to have swung that paddle like a baseball bat.

Her soft, feathery, tawny pale brows lifted as her Mom sat the second mug in front of her. "What's this?" she asked, gazing into the light tan liquid. They lifted even higher as she replied, "It's coffee." Mom never gave her coffee!! Said it wasn't good for someone as young as she was.

Samantha's lips softly curved. "If you're old enough, responsible enough, to train and take care of a slave, you're old enough for coffee. Assuming you like it, of course."

Courtney's face lit up like a bonfire, a huge grin on her face. She eagerly picked up the cup between both tiny hands and carefully sniffed it before taking a cautious sip. Samantha smothered a grin as her daughter's face wrinkled at the taste, but there was no way Courtney was going to refuse to drink such an adult thing, no matter how bitter or nasty it might taste.

Sitting down at the table Samantha sipped her own coffee, gazing at Courtney over the rim. "Do you really intend to leave your slave like that all day?" she asked.

Courtney opened her mouth to immediately retort 'Darn right!' but something about how her Mom phrased that made her pause. "Why?" she finally asked, instead.

In a completely neutral, didactic tone Samantha answered, "The cuffs she's wearing on her wrists, although they fit reasonably well, aren't really fitted for her size wrists. Nor are they suspension cuffs. Cuffs made intentionally to support someone to hang from their wrists," she clarified for Courtney. "Twerp's full weight are on her wrists, as she can't reach the floor with her feet. I'm sure it's very acutely uncomfortable for her already. Very shortly it's going to become painful. To be honest, hanging like that, with those cuffs, could become damaging very shortly."

Courtney really didn't care if Twerp was badly uncomfortable, or even, for that matter, aching badly enough to cry and sob. Goodness knew that Courtney had gone to sleep most of the last two weeks crying because of what her cousin had said or did to her! Still, she hadn't realized that hanging that way might injure Sasha. She'd thought, from what she'd seen, that hanging from her wrists was all right.

"Are you telling me to let her down, then?" she asked.

"Telling you? No," her Mom said, truly surprising Courtney. "Not yet, anyway," she honestly added. "But you do need to know that, very shortly, in fact, Twerp's going to have to be lowered."

Courtney looked sullen and resentful for a long moment as she took another sip of her coffee. She didn't want to have to lower Twerp back down, she was still highly incensed at her. She gazed down at her mug, feeling quite the grown-up at the moment. Here she was, with her Mom, having coffee at the kitchen table, just like she'd seen her Mom and other grown-ups do, having quite the serious conversation too.

She took a deep breath at last, puffing air out past small pursed lips. "Should I go now, then, and let her down?" she asked.

Resentful though she might be at having to change her plan, Courtney couldn't help but feel good at the proud, approving smile her Mom gave her. "Not right now, no," she said, shaking her head. "But no longer, I'd say, then another fifteen minutes."

Courtney's eyes widened at that. She hadn't guessed things would get so bad for Twerp in such a very short time, if Mom didn't think leaving her hanging like that for more then twenty-five minutes was a good idea. Jeez! And Courtney had wanted to leave her like that for another six hours!

She finally nodded, looking up at the clock to make sure she'd go right down when she should. "I'm sorry I lost my temper like I did," she softly confessed.

Again, in a non-condemning, neutral tone her Mom replied, "Good. You should be. Getting mad about something is perfectly natural and understandable. Loosing your temper with your slave is not. For several reasons." Courtney listened closely, sensing a lesson rather then a lecture or scold. "A large part of being a Mistress is a matter of control and discipline. Not just over, and with, your slave. But of yourself, too. A slave really can't respect your control if you show no self-control yourself. Also, your slave is totally at your command, completely helpless. You literally can do whatever you wish. Which means if you lose your temper you could easily wind up doing something you'll deeply regret later on."

Courtney nodded as she listened, feeling quite guilty as she grasped what Mom was saying. What hadn't been said but she suddenly comprehended on her own, was, truly, how important not loosing her temper would be. How many times in the past had she herself gotten in trouble? Well-deserved trouble at that. But Mom, no matter how angry she'd been - and, make no mistake about it, Courtney knew her Mom had been, at times, utterly furious - had never lost her temper with her daughter. Consciously looking back on those times now, really thinking about them Courtney realized that, although she'd been unhappy, miserable and anxious about the impending punishment, she'd never been scared or frightened of her Mom.

And this wasn't, really, supposed to be a game with Sasha. Or even a way for Courtney to get even with her for being so mean. All of this was meant both as punishment and correction. To teach Sasha manners, responsibility and to behave as she should. As she used to do.

"Jeez," Courtney muttered at last. "This sounds almost like I'm going to be her Mom!"

Samantha laughed at that, deep blue eyes merrily twinkling. "In a lot of ways, that's very much what it's like, yes. A parent does have total control, complete decision-making, for their child, true. The duty and obligation of teaching their child manners, rules, a sense of responsibility. Of being responsible for their child's health and well-being; physical, mental and emotional. All of which you, as Twerp's Mistress, are also responsible for. Too much for you baby?" she asked in a softer tone.

"I dunno," Courtney honestly replied. "It sounded more, well, fun, when you first explained things to me. Having a chance to get even with Sasha for all her meanness and bullying."

Samantha nodded, taking another sip. "Well, that is a plus side to your being her Mistress, you know." Courtney looked up, curious at that. "As long as you're fulfilling your main obligations and duties, there's nothing stopping you from, well, 'having fun' with your slave." Now Courtney looked really intrigued at that. "For instance, you can command her to fix your baths. Rub your feet. Lotion you. Brush and fix your hair. Lay out your clothes. Keep your room clean," Samantha said, giving a few examples. Courtney nodded, listening. "You can also have her do things, or do things to her, that embarrass her a lot."

Courtney really perked up at that, taking another sip, finding latter ones tasting better then that first one. "Like, how?"

"Well, it seems that Twerp likes to be tied up," Samantha said. "That excites her. She can't help that. So, imagine watching TV or a video with her tightly tied up on the living room floor. Right where you can clearly see her. And she can't hide her excitement from you. Not at all."

A huge grin split Courtney's face at that. Oh boy! She rubbed her tiny hands together in glee, Samantha laughing at her enthusiasm. "Trust me baby," Samantha assured her daughter, "Although this will be a lot of hard work for you - and I'll be helping you, don't forget - you'll also get a lot of fun and enjoyment from owning your own slave."

"Did you ever own your own slaves Mom?" Courtney asked. Samantha blinked, nonplused, startled by the question and taken a bit aback. She took several sips of her coffee before answering, but, really, there wasn't ever any chance she'd answer other then honestly. Samantha had never lied to her daughter; although that hadn't meant she'd answered every question posed to her, though. But this was an understandable question for her daughter - a Mistress-in-training, for all intents - to ask.

"Yes. And no, sweetheart," she finally answered. "I've never owned one 24/7," she said, then explained, "That means twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Another way of saying 'full-time'," she said with a smile. "Not like you'll be doing with Twerp, which will be 24/7. But, I've both played scenes with slaves, and I've taught and trained ones, too."

"Why haven't you, then?" Courtney ingeniously asked.

"Well, for a number of reasons," Samantha replied. "At first, I'd never met anyone that I wanted that level of commitment with. Then, later, I had you," warmly smiling as she said that. "So it wasn't reasonable to look for someone to keep, when I had you to take care of."

Courtney looked a little sad. "Did having me ruin things for you then?"

"Oh baby, no!" Samantha tenderly, softly said. "Not at all! I'd rather have you then a hundred slaves of my own."

Courtney smiled at that, wriggling a little in her chair. "Besides, I haven't stopped playing. Or training. I just stopped looking for a potential 24/7 slave, that's all. I still have some that come by and have fun with them."

That prolly explained some of the visitors Mom had, Courtney thought. They weren't neighbors, she knew that, and Mom explained they were friends, usually 'out-of-town' ones. They'd be there when Courtney went to bed, and gone the next morning, and Courtney was wondering now if they'd truly 'gone', or, instead, had been downstairs, like Twerp was now, in the secret rooms. If so, Courtney sure had never known they'd been. She lightly shivered, realizing that Twerp was now in that same position: held downstairs, and no way, ever, anyone ever able to guess or tell that she was! How exciting!!

"Do you mind if I make some suggestions as what to do with Twerp for now?" her Mom asked, changing the subject.

Shaking her head Courtney replied, "Nu-uh. I don't mind, no."

"Well, to start with, I know I've told you that until I'm sure you know what you're doing you're not to punish Twerp using anything other then your hand on her bottom unless I'm there to oversee." Courtney nodded, understanding that better, now that she'd seen some of those things and had this conversation. "You should be fine using that paddle. As long as you don't hit any harder they you had been." In fact, Samantha knew that Courtney had been a bit lighter with it then Samantha herself would have been, but that was actually a good thing for now. "You're limited to a total of ten swats, no more then five to each cheek. And nowhere else but her bottom. Understood?" Courtney nodded. "In addition, you may also use the riding crop on your own."

Courtney's dusky eyes widened at that, she sucked in her breath. "Really?" she asked in a hushed tone.

"Yes. Really," Samantha said with a smile. "You've enough experience using them for equitation to understand how to properly use one. With a horse, they don't really feel it as much as react to the sharp popping sound when the leather tip lands. Slaves react the same way except that, on bared skin, it also stings. Quite a bit. It doesn't really leave a much of a mark, normally no more then a very light pink one. But it will make her jump, I'm sure," she added with a knowing smile.

Courtney grinned again, quite gleeful and delighted, picturing just that. "Goodie!" she said, clapping her small hands together.

"Make sure you only ever strike with the tip," Samantha warned. "And never with the shaft itself. If you aren't positive - say, because of how your slave is twisting or struggling - that only the tip will land, then don't try. If you do wind up hitting Twerp with the shaft by accident, or on purpose, I'll show you exactly how that feels, by giving you twice as many as Twerp got. Understand?"

Courtney shuddered at that. "Yes Ma'am," she meekly said, vowing to herself to never ever have the shaft hit Twerp, no matter what!

"Good girl!" Samantha smiled. "Now, unlike the paddle, you can use the crop anywhere. Except the neck or face."

Again Courtney's eyes grew huge. "Anywhere?" she whispered, awed.

"Yes sweetheart. Anywhere. Bottom. Tummy. Inner thighs. Chest. Wherever you decide."

"Oh wow!" she whispered, still awed. "Won't that hurt, though?" she then asked, looking much more serious.

Samantha replied, "Go bring me yours."

Courtney gulped at that. Then swallowed, nodding before slithering out of the chair and padding up to her room to fetch her own riding crop she used for equitation. She had the awfullest feeling Mom was going to show her just what that felt like. A personal demonstration, and she wasn't at all sure she wanted such a lesson!

A minute later Courtney came back, nervously entering the kitchen, riding crop in hand. Holding it out her Mom took it. "Turn around," she told her daughter. Swallowing Courtney did just that. "Don't be afraid baby," Samantha soothingly said. "This isn't at all like a spanking or hairbrushing. OK?"

Courtney didn't trust her voice so she simply nodded. Then yelped, hopping, as the crop licked across the back of one thigh, expertly popped by Samantha. A tiny hand reached back, rubbing, as she turned around in mid-hop to face her Mom. Samantha struggled not to grin at her expression. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Courtney started to vehemently exclaim it sure was! when she paused. Actually, now that the surprise was over, it really hadn't been all that awful. Stingy, yes. Kinda like being snapped with a big rubber band. Or having a thin branch whip back and catch you while hiking or riding. "We-e-elll . . . no-o-o-o," she finally replied. "Not really."

Samantha nodded. "Now, lift up your shirt and bare your tummy." Courtney's small jaw dropped, her eyes got huge again. "If you're going to want to use things on your slave," Samantha softly informed, "first you're going to have to understand just what they feel like." Courtney swallowed at that, then gave a tiny, very reluctant yet understanding nod. Hadn't she thought something the same, before, with the hairbrush paddling she gave Twerp? That she knew what that felt like, herself? If she hadn't known, would she, maybe, have hit lots harder, not knowing any better?

Courtney could see the wisdom behind this, but that didn't mean she liked it any!

"You don't have to baby," Samantha softly said. "I'm not making you. But, if you want to have the option to use the riding crop, you'll need to bare your tummy."

She really didn't want to do this. And it showed, too. But, really, the one on the back of her little leg really hadn't hurt. In fact, she could barely feel it now. Just a real, light sting left, if that. And now that she thought about it, the image of her using a riding crop all over Twerp as she hung by her wrists, restrained as she was, was incredibly intriguing. So, with a little bit of nervous hesitation Courtney lifted up her shirt until her tummy was bared, then closed her eyes and gritted her small, perfect teeth.

Braced as she was and having some idea what to expect, this time she didn't hop or yelp. Instead she rather sharply hissed as it popped on her tummy. It wasn't pleasant, no, but it also wasn't terrible, either. She peeped through slitted lids at her Mom. "Is that it?" she hopefully asked, then deeply puffed out through her lips when Mom nodded yes. "Phew!"

Samantha softly chuckled, then sipped her coffee. "Sit back down and I'll continue where we left off, OK?"

Courtney nodded, quickly sitting back down and eagerly listening. "Now, you don't have to do any of this but, I think this would be a good start . . . . "

Sasha hurt. Was beyond tears by now. Her throat felt raw from uselessly screaming for help, howling for them to return. Tearful, despairing pleas; earnest begging to be let down . . . not that anyone had heard her strident cries.

From her back and shoulder blades up through small shoulders and neck all the way up slender little arms, and most especially little wrists, she acutely ached. It wasn't even discomfort but a profound, throbbing, muscle-burning anguish and distress. Physically drained and exhausted.

Emotionally drained as well, having run the gamut from shock and surprise to alarm and anxiety, then to impotent fury, rage and anger, then to fright and dismay, fear and dread. Until, at last, a deep, intense, hopeless despair. They weren't coming back for her. No one was. No one could hear her, no one knew where she was and, it seemed, the only two that did know . . . didn't care about her at all.

It was all her fault. All of this. Everything that had happened. Sasha didn't want to acknowledge that, didn't want to accept it. She wanted it to be someone else's fault, wanted the blame placed on another's shoulders. But, as the time slowly, agonizingly passed, the true reality kept hammering at her until she couldn't continue denying the truth any longer.

Even now she could feel the collar locked around her neck. Where Aunt Samantha had found one her size Sasha didn't know. But, find one she had and it was there to stay, until they chose to remove it. They, and not Sasha herself. That, and everything that meant, everything that locked metal collar symbolized and represented, was the direct result of Sasha's own behavior. Of her illicit, forbidden exploration down here. As her Aunt had told Sasha to her face, the moment she'd chosen to break into these rooms she'd sealed her fate. She'd decided the very means her own punishment would take, whether she'd known that or not.

Even the awful torment she was experiencing right now was her own fault. If she'd just kept her mouth shut, held her temper, hadn't snapped at Courtney she wouldn't be hanging here like this. Sasha choked back a sob; she couldn't stay like this all day, she just couldn't!

But that, too, was no longer her choice to make. Whether she thought she could or not, if they did leave her she'd have to stay just like this. Puffy, red, bloodshot eyes stared down at the gleaming tile below, just beneath her tiny toes. At slender little bare legs held stretched so wide, restrained by the cuffs at her small ankles. Sasha didn't bother glancing up at those cuffs; for one thing, she was too exhausted to make the effort and, for another, seeing them only hammered her helplessness home all the harder.

There wasn't anything exciting about this any longer. Not from the moment her Aunt simply walked off, ignoring her increasingly strident pleas and Sasha realized, absolutely and completely, this wasn't a joke. This wasn't a 'scare', a shock tactic to 'straighten her out'. That they really meant what they'd said about her being a slave.

That she really was a slave.

She never heard the inner door open. The first inkling she had she wasn't alone was catching a glimpse of motion before her. Sasha weakly looked up, then literally caught the sob that lumped in her throat at seeing someone here with her.

"Courtney," she croaked in a wavering, weak, suffering voice. "Please. I'm hurting. Please let me down! I'm sorry. For everything! I won't ever do any of that again! Oh please! Just let me down and I'll do anything you want. Anything!"

Courtney looked up from placing a small plastic pail atop the nearby table. She'd already sat down a thick phone book, a plastic cup and a towel there. She was shocked at how distressed her cousin looked, how her voice sounded, and felt truly awful inside at being the cause of that. She also didn't think Sasha was just saying what she did just to say it, she was positive Sasha was utterly contrite and sorry.

For now.

Standing right in front of Sasha Courtney placed small fists on her sleek little hips. "Listen to me Twerp. Don't say another word. Not one, until I say you can speak. I know you're hurting and tired, but I won't hesitate to gag you if you say another word. Understand me?"

Sasha couldn't keep this little sob from breaking out at that. Numbly, miserably she just nodded. She didn't dare risk Courtney following through with that threat. If it was a threat. Indeed, the way Courtney had spoken it sounded very much like a solemn promise, instead.

At Twerp's nod Courtney walked closer, kneeling on the tiles almost between her slave's cuffed and spread small feet. Mom had explained the working of the pole thing, and it didn't take very long at all before tiny fingers had moved the sleeve properly to the slideable position. "Bring your feet together Twerp," Courtney said.

Sasha didn't hesitate at all. With a groan she tensed her slender little thighs and brought her feet closer together. Courtney helped, aiding that movement along. Sasha groaned again as she - finally! - was able to take the strain off her little arms and small cuffed wrists by, once more, balancing on her feet and taking the weight on them. Courtney left the adjustment sleeve at that position then stood up, walking over to the table and picking up the phone book with both hands before kneeling back down again.

She nibbled her full, soft lower lip as she laid the book down at Twerp's feet. There wasn't any way for Twerp to lift one foot at a time, and Courtney was pretty sure Twerp was too exhausted to do anything like a chin-up. "Huh," she muttered. "Ok Twerp, listen up," she finally said. "I'm gonna lift you up some and push this book under your feet. So you got more room to wriggle your arms."

Sasha couldn't keep from moaning in anticipation at that. To be able to move her arms even just a little seemed like a divine gift. Courtney stood up then wrapped her little arms around Twerp's tummy, then heaved.

Or tried to, anyway. It wasn't that Courtney was weak, because she wasn't. But her cousin outweighed her by 42 pounds, almost twice her weight, in fact. So it wasn't an easy thing at all to do, lifting her even a little. She finally managed it, but not without a struggle, and not without a few whimpers, cries and groans from Twerp, whose arms and wrists were already aching and hurting.

But, oh! How blessedly wonderful that felt, once she was standing on that book! Sasha started rolling her small shoulders, feeling the quivering of strained exhausted muscles. She'd much rather be let all the way down, and started to say so, but one glance at that gag on the table and she decided perhaps it was better to just keep her yap shut for now.

She watched as Courtney walked back over to the table and picked up a small, pink plastic cup, then padded back over to stand in front of her to hold the cup up to her lips. Sasha's cheeks turned a vivid rose then, recognizing the cup as a sippy cup, one used for toddlers and little kids. Courtney held the spout to Twerp's lips. "Drink."

It wasn't a suggestion Sasha numbly realized. Nor even a request or offer. It was nothing less then an order, a command. It was also horribly embarrassing, too. But Sasha was too thirsty to worry about the embarrassment of drinking from a little kid sippy cup or from just meekly following her little cousin's order. Once the spout touched her small pouty lips Sasha parted them, slipped them over the spout and started eagerly suckling.

The water was room temperature and bland. But, right then, nothing tasted sweeter to Sasha then the liquid dribbling into her parched, gummy mouth. She suckled and swallowed, suckled and swallowed, basking in the wetness, distantly aware that Courtney wasn't teasing her with the cup, wasn't pulling it back and away, making her struggle for her drink, or even making her beg for it.

Her cheeks grew hot again, though, as she noticed Courtney's expression as she kept tipping the cup back and helping Sasha drink. She looked delighted, fascinated, enchanted; softly grinning, dusky eyes sparkling and bright.

She finished the whole cup before Courtney finally lowered and took it away, then she simply turned and walked off, setting the now-empty cup down on the table. Next she picked up the small plastic pail before walking to stand behind Sasha, who nervously stood there, still restrained and helpless. Sasha clearly had no idea what Courtney was up to, and just as clearly was extremely apprehensive.

Setting the pail down Courtney reached up and carefully gathered Twerp's hair together, making a ponytail before using a scrunchie to keep it together, then picked up the sponge floating inside the pail. Squeezing the excess water out she then started sponging down Twerp's back. She initially jerked at the first touch of the cool, moist sponge then relaxed, making a soft sigh as she did.

It felt very good, very nice and soothing, easing the itching from her sweaty skin. Sasha's pert little snub nose wrinkled, scenting a somewhat astringent odor with whatever it was Courtney was sponging her with. It wasn't a bad or nasty smell, no. And, in fact, felt very nice, helping ease the jumpy quiveriness of her overtaxed, strained muscles.

Courtney sponged Twerp from the back of her neck down to the bikini bottoms, frequently dipping and remoistening the sponge. Then did her slender arms, up as high as she could reach before crouching and sponging lithe little legs from the bikini bottoms to the insteps of small bare feet. Now came the hard part, she thought, leaving the sponge in the pail as she straightened up. Small hands, the tiny fingers trembling a little, reached up and grasped the tied knot at the back of Twerp's neck.

No sooner did Sasha feel that then she lightly gasped, jerking forward. "No Courtney, please don't!" she softly implored, pleading. Then stiffened, unable to stifle the soft whimper as she heard from behind, "Hush slave. I told you what would happen if you said anything. " At that Courtney walked around from behind, over to the table and picked up the gag before marching to stand in front of Twerp.

Sasha's eyes widened, grew huge. She shook her head back and forth in rapid little shakes of denial. Before she could plead anew not to have that put in her mouth Courtney firmly said, "Listen to me very carefully Twerp. One way or another this is going in your mouth. You were warned, and you chose not to obey. You were also warned that any disobedience was gonna be punished." There was absolutely no give in her voice but, Sasha noticed, there also wasn't any gleeful gloating either.

"I don't have to be nice about this Twerp. Or make any deals," she informed, gazing right into her slave's wide green eyes as she held the very tip of the gag to Twerp's tightly closed lips. "If you open your mouth, right now, though, I'll take it out once I'm through with you and before I go back upstairs. Give me a hassle about it and you'll wear it until I feed you dinner tonight."

Sasha whimpered again. She did not, most positively did not, want that in her mouth. Especially knowing what it was supposed to resemble which, she now well knew, it did to an astonishingly life-like degree, even down to molded veins running across the surface. She didn't dare compound her error by vocally pleading, but her huge, entreating eyes were certainly eloquent enough. They rapidly filled, glistening like pools, and a single tear trickled down her cheek.

But Courtney seemed immune to her distress. In fact, her small heart-shaped face tightened into a deep frown. Sasha whimpered again, hating herself for being so weak, but seeing no other option. She parted her lips, just a little, hoping that Courtney, seeing that she was trying, would change her mind.

"Good slave," Courtney softly murmured. "Wider. Now!" The last was quite sharp, and Sasha jerked at the tone. This . . . this just couldn't be happening to her! She couldn't really be forced to obey, to have to listen to a little girl like her cousin! To really be her property, her slave!

But, it was. And she did. And she was. Sasha shivered, little body trembling, goosebumps racing up and down little arms and legs as she capitulated with another whimper, opening her mouth wide enough for the gag. Her entire body flushed a bright hot scarlet as Courtney gently slipped the mouthpiece in, as Sasha felt the soft yet firm latex glide past her gaped small lips then deeper inside, as she felt the texture and detail of the shaft filling her small mouth.

"Good slave!" Courtney said with approval, which only heightened Sasha's color. Once the rectangular black leather section the mouthpiece was attached to was firmly pressing against Twerp's lips Courtney held it there for a few moments, just like Mom said to do, making sure that Twerp wasn't going to actually gag or choke on it. Gags were supposed to silence, she'd been told, not actually make someone gag. Mom hadn't thought Twerp would have trouble with it - the penis part wasn't that long, only three inches in length - but had warned Courtney to be extremely careful if she needed - or wanted - to use it.

It might not have been all that long but, to Sasha, it felt like her whole mouth was filled. Not like the ball had done, no, for that had evenly expanded inside her mouth, filling it top to bottom and side to side. This one felt like she was sucking on a giant popsicle, then moaned no sooner had she thought that. 'Sucking' was not, she decided, the word she wanted, at all, to be thinking of right now!

Courtney slipped the two securing straps behind Twerp's head, threaded one end by touch through the buckle then very snugly fastened them together. Again, remembering her Mom's instructions, she slipped a tiny forefinger beneath the strap at Twerp's one cheek and lightly pulled, seeing how far, if at all, she could tug the wide strap part over Twerp's mouth. It moved a little, but not much, so that should be fine from what she'd understood.

"Just because you're gagged now Twerp," Courtney firmly announced, "Doesn't mean a slave can just go ahead now and make noises. I still don't want to hear a peep out of you."

Sasha was mortified. Humiliated beyond belief. And it wasn't just at being bossed around by a littler girl. Or at being utterly helpless about what was happening. Or even at that nasty awful gag in her mouth. Although all of that played a significant part in how she felt. No, what was truly embarrassing was how all this was making her feel again. Inside. Deep in the pit of her tummy.

Oddly enough, that had started when Courtney had given her water. Even through the embarrassment of that, something about having the cup held to her lips, carefully tipped back so she could drink when she couldn't drink on her own, had started those feelings again. Then, when Sasha had noticed the expression in her cousin's eyes, she'd felt the oddest, sharp little jolt at that and the tingles started growing more. While she certainly wasn't being pampered, she was being taken care of, when Sasha certainly was in no position to care for her own self. Cared for gently, nicely and kindly. Even the sponging had been gentle and tender, when it could have simply been brusque and efficient.

That had never been part of her daydreams. She'd never even considered that possibility. Yet she couldn't deny how that was making her feel inside, any more then she could have denied how everything else had been making her feel and react.

Like what was happening, right now, even as she struggled to push that awful thing out and had no more success doing so then she had had with the ball before. Watching as Courtney walked behind her again, knowing what was about to happen.

She didn't want to be stripped, she really really didn't! Sasha didn't care that she'd daydreamed of exactly that happening to her. As she'd already found out, daydreams were one thing, reality another. She didn't understand why knowing she was about to be undressed was upsetting her as much as it was. It wasn't as if her cousin hadn't seen her naked before, after all. But sharing a shower together, both bare as the day they were born, and being helplessly stripped naked by her cousin was wildly different.

And there wasn't anything she could do about it. She could try to twist and struggle, but Sasha didn't think that would accomplish much. It certainly wouldn't prevent anything, either. Nor could she forget being paddled before, and was horribly certain that if she didn't just docilely stand there, Courtney would be more then happy to paddle her until she did. And with that gag now in her mouth she couldn't say anything. Couldn't plead or beg or threaten or anything. Then again, Sasha thought, threatening would be a stupid thing to do, she'd already learned that today. And, she was dismally aware, even if she wasn't gagged she didn't think she'd dare talk. Not and risk being punished for speaking when she'd expressly been told -twice now - to keep quiet.

Courtney stepped behind Twerp again then, without saying a word, without too much fumbling, reached up again for the top string knot. It was the work of a moment to undo the ends and, when she let go, the strings slithered over and off Twerp's small tensed shoulders, accompanied the instant they slipped free by a muffled whimper from her slave.

Sasha glanced down, horrified. Her top was now dangling just below small nascent breasts, now revealed, as were twin small nipples, taut and puckered, rosy and erect. Again she blushed, that crimson tide flooding even brighter as she saw them visibly tighten even more even as she watched. Little toes clenched, she fidgeted and squirmed feeling Courtney's fingers tugging at the bottom knot and, moments later, Sasha moaned, watching as her top fluttered down to the tiles at her feet.

When she felt those fingers fumbling at the ties to her bottom Sasha squirmed, wriggled and twisted sleek hips. Then squealed, jerking, as Courtney's tiny hand sharply swatted her butt. She never said a word but, then again, she didn't have to; her message was crystal clear. Trembling hard Sasha struggled to hold still as she felt Courtney tugging at the ties at either hip. Moments later the back half fluttered down but, Sasha was dismayed to notice, the front half seemed stuck; adhered to her mound. It didn't stay stuck there long, as Courtney just gave the back a little jerk, pulling her bottoms free and off.

Sasha softly moaned and whimpered, now standing there fully naked, utterly exposed. The rings at her wrist cuffs jingled as she reflexively, instinctively, went to cover herself with her arms, those at her ankles chimed as she tried to cross her legs . . . and couldn't. She desperately prayed Courtney would let her down now, for there was no way she or Aunt Samantha could possibly miss how she reacted to certain things.

Instead, Courtney simply sauntered in front, dropping the tops and bottoms of her swimsuit atop her other clothes, then set the pail she carried down. Taking sponge in hand again, Courtney continued swabbing off Sasha, this time her front.

It hadn't been as hard to strip Twerp as she'd thought it would be. It certainly hadn't been difficult sponging off her back, as that was very much like when they'd soap each other's backs when they'd showered together. However, Courtney had never soaped her cousin's front before nor, for that matter, had seen Sasha's breasts bared. Well, not since they'd grown as they had. So her cheeks were quite pink as she started sponging Twerp's upper chest, just above those gently budding swells, feeling extremely shy and self-conscious. She didn't want to get caught peeking, or seem as if she was curious . . . even though she was.

Then she blinked, a startled look on her face as her clever mind considered something. It was only naughty peeking if Sasha didn't know Courtney was looking. If Sasha hadn't permitted that. Sasha, after all, had the right to privacy and modesty, the right to decide who could or could not look at her.

Sasha had that right. But Twerp was a slave, who had no rights. Including the rights to privacy or modesty. And Twerp was Courtney's slave. To do with as she pleased. Which included peeking. Heck, outright staring, for that matter!

Twerp turned even brighter as Courtney took a step back, and boldly looked at her slave's now-bared chest. Hotly blushed, yes, but Courtney's huge gray eyes widened as she saw Twerp's nipples pucker even more then they already had been. 'She gets excited being stared at!' Courtney thought in undisguised glee. 'How kewl!'

She avidly stared at Twerp's little budding breasts and small, hard nipples. She mentally contrasted what she saw now versus what they'd looked like last summer, as well as compared them to her own. They weren't very big, no, but they were definitely boobies and not just muscle. And the nipples looked different, too. A little wider and bigger. Certainly more of the center part then Courtney's were, or Sasha had had last year.

Sasha, wishing she could just sink into the floor and disappear forever whimpered again, tried twisting to the side to hide her exposed front from that intense appraising look of her cousin's. Then froze as Courtney simply said, never even looking up, "Oh, hold still. Before I paddle you."

Tiny toes wriggled and clenched, small hands tightened into little fists. All Sasha could do was stand there and be helplessly examined like an anatomical model.

Or, she imagined, examined just like the slave she was.

Sasha made an appalling discovery a few moments later while Courtney was busy, preoccupied staring at and studying her chest.

Like the ball in her mouth before, this gag, too, also filled her mouth, rendering her speech useless. And, like that ball, made her helplessly salivate. However, unlike the ball, which was porous sponge and soaked up the saliva, this one wasn't absorbent. Not at all. And her spit was slowly building up in her mouth, pooling and puddling. She tried swallowing but, with that shaft in her mouth holding down her little tongue, she couldn't easily do so. What was at the very back of her throat she could swallow, but not the stuff that was steadily pooling in the front. Already she had to keep her small lips firmly pressed around the rod to keep from drooling. She had exactly two choices, and neither appealed to her. She could either, at some point, lose the battle to hold her spit inside and wind up slobbering down her chin, or try sucking the stuff back to where she could swallow it.

Both were utterly embarrassing, but for different reasons. Helplessly slobbering would be so demeaning and humiliating. And no way could Courtney miss seeing that if that happened. Yet sucking the spit back would also mean sucking down on that gag, and Sasha just couldn't forget what it was supposed to look like or represent. Even though it was only a fake, it would be like sucking on a penis. One of the magazines had clearly shown a woman doing just that, to a real one, and Sasha couldn't think of anything nastier or yuckier. She'd certainly never ever put something like that in her mouth! Yet, at this moment, she definitely had something very much like a real one inside, and she sure hadn't had any choice about that. Another jolting tingle rippled through her as she thought, as she considered all that.

Maybe if she just tipped her head back she could get her spit to trickle back to where she could swallow it? Sasha carefully tilted her head back, feeling it shift in her mouth as she did. She couldn't see Courtney very well once she had, but in some ways that was a mercy.

And in some ways not. For Sasha didn't see when Courtney dipped the sponge again, this time to lightly run it right over a small nascent breast.

Samantha glanced up at the wall clock as she sipped her coffee and nibbled on a croissant. If she was honest with herself - and she was - Samantha knew that her desire to accompany her daughter downstairs to deal with Twerp was as much out of curiosity and interest as it was to assure everything went well. But it was more important to have Courtney go down, this time, on her own, then it was to satisfy her own urges.

For one, Samantha was very aware of how unsure her daughter still was in herself. She needed to start building her self-confidence where it came to handling and training her new slave. Perhaps nine was a bit young to ask that of a girl but, one thing Samantha had acknowledged early on was that Courtney was a bright, clever, precocious and responsible child. And it wasn't as if Samantha intended to just throw her daughter in the deep end expecting her to start swimming.

She had no clue how her daughter was going to respond. Just because Samantha had a dominant nature didn't mean her daughter would. And it wasn't necessary for her daughter to have a Dominant aspect, after all, for her to succeed. Most likely Courtney would simply deal with the situation just as if she were Sasha's miniature Mom. Which would still accomplish the goal of reeducating and disciplining her cousin. Which was, after all, the main reason Samantha had chosen this course of action. The fact that Sasha found being tied up and restrained was simply a means to that end. Something to help accelerate her progress.

For another, it was crucially important, right from the get go, to firmly establish with Sasha that Courtney really was in charge. Not a figurehead, a puppet of her Aunt, but really and truly in charge. So having Courtney go downstairs to do what she'd gone down to do - which was, by all accounts, fairly simple and uncomplicated - was a very good way of doing just that. Samantha wouldn't be hovering in the background, her presence wouldn't be giving Sasha the sensation that Courtney was being monitored, that Sasha had an alternative superior to supplicate to. There'd be no 'lifeline' that Sasha would feel she could seek out.

Sasha chuckled to herself as she took another sip. The expression on Sasha's face as Courtney announced her slave's new name was priceless. She didn't like hearing kids use demeaning or insulting names on each other, and had been about to call Sasha to task for doing just that to her daughter, having overheard her calling Courtney 'twerp' several times. But Sasha had, by her own actions, supplied the means to resolving that little problem herself. Samantha had no doubt that, after this summer, she'd learn better then to use demeaning nicknames as she'd seemed to have developed the habit of doing.

Then her expression became more serious, more thoughtful and pensive. She didn't know how, if even if, her daughter was going to respond to things, true. Nor, really, did she know how Sasha - well, Twerp - was, either. Granted, the child obviously was excited about being restrained and helpless. What Samantha didn't know was just how long she'd had feelings like those. What forms, if anything other then nebulous vague images, those feelings and dreams took.

Or whether Samantha should pursue that avenue as part of her reeducation and training.

Samantha sipped her coffee, deeply thinking. There was no immediate need to make a decision about that, but, soon, she would have to determine whether or not to do so. Just as she'd informed her daughter, this could easily be kept more like a parent/child relationship, just a bit more intense and with a few additional options a parent wouldn't utilize with their child. However, if Twerp really did respond to bondage, to submission, if those truly did arouse and stimulate her, then, the longer this continued, the more intense, the more those feelings would burgeon and flower deep inside her.

With no idea what, how or why that was happening to her. The normal sensations accompanying puberty, as a child's body started to mature, to feel, to want sensations, was confusing enough for them. Discovering that being tied up, being helpless, having no control over things, being ordered about, required to obey, being embarrassed and, possibly, even humiliated - Samantha wasn't sure about that, yet - was exciting, stimulating and arousing would be tremendously overwhelming, confusing, unsettling and possibly even traumatic. It was one thing for Twerp's logical conscious to understand those things might evoke those feelings - assuming, of course, Twerp understood even that much - and quite another for her subconscious, her mind and emotions, to accept that, too.

Normally when Samantha trained and taught another submissive or slave, they'd already come to understand, accept and embrace their own feelings and desires, both consciously and unconsciously. They'd wanted, earnestly sought out, those who, too, understood and accepted that. They'd desired and consented, with full understanding and comprehension, what was involved with that willing compliance. Oh, there were always aspects they balked at; they varied from person to person, and for different reasons. But a good Mistress understood the difference between hard limits, and areas that could, and should, be pushed. Explored and expanded.

But Twerp hadn't consented.

Regarding disciplining Twerp, her inappropriate and unacceptable behavior being firmly corrected, naturally enough no consent was needed. Or would be sought, either. But that wasn't the issue, not at all. Like it or not, what was the issue was how Twerp was responding to matters.

Besides, little slave, you and I both know you want this. Being tied up. Being helpless. Having no choice, being made to do things. You want all of that. And more. Even the things you don't have any idea that exist. Yet. You can't get this, any of this, out of your mind. You think about it all day, dream about it all night, don't you.

That was what she'd whispered to Twerp. As much to test her reaction, as it was to make clear to Twerp Samantha knew. Wasn't guessing, but knew what Twerp felt inside. And in doing so, whether Samantha knew it or not at the time, made visible to them both a door, as it were, that, once opened, would expose an entire new world for her niece.

It was very possible that, now aware of that possibility Twerp would, over time, eagerly seek what lay there. But it would be Samantha's responsibility, her decision, whether to allow or permit that door to actually be unlocked, be opened.

Knowing full well that, if she did, she'd be laying the immutable foundation of Twerp's future life. Once started down that path, undergoing the expert training Samantha knew she was capable of, never to leave it. A child her age, poised right on the brink of budding maturation, was so very malleable. And every child, no matter how well behaved or unmanageable, sought approval on some level. They wanted, needed, craved to be wanted, to be approved of.

So, too, did true submissives and slaves. No small part of their training and modification was using their need for approval.

Right now, at this moment, the lines between retraining an errant child and training a new slave were quite blurred, overlapped, indistinct. They could remain that way, too.

Possibly.

But, if Twerp really was responding as it appeared she was, becoming aroused, then Samantha would have to make, and quite soon, a very important decision. Did she 'tone down' some aspects, those that excited Twerp, and concentrate on more neutral issues? Or begin training her in all aspects?

Making that harder to decide was that Samantha was finding it extremely difficult to remain purely objective on the matter. Not when her own Dominant nature was licking her chops at the opportunity. There was a not-so-minor war going on inside her at the moment, a battle between a loving Aunt who'd had enough of her bratty, bullying, misbehaving niece and fully intended to correct and discipline her, and of a natural Dominant who hungered at the unique opportunity to train such a young, innocent, pliant girl as a slave.

A nonconsenting one, at that. But who, nonetheless, subconsciously craved exactly that: to be enslaved against her will, trained no matter how much she resisted and struggled.

Samantha had played that very role many times with others. But they'd always been roles. Always been play. Imaginary scenes. But there wasn't anything imaginary, anything pretend, about this now. Not if she truly followed through with what she'd intimated to Twerp earlier.

As far as her daughter knew or understood, this was just punishment of sorts. A rather unusual and severe form of grounding. Which, in its way, it was. But, it could easily become more, and Samantha knew that.

She glanced up at the clock again, wondering how things were going downstairs, then gazed into her mug again, her thoughts quite deep and intense.

Courtney took a deep breath as she dipped the sponge into the pail again then squeezed the extra water out. It was one thing to look at Twerp's breasts, and another to touch them. Which she was about to do, albeit via using a sponge rather then her hand. But, still!

She admitted to herself she was kinda curious to do just that. Touch them. In a naughty-exciting-inquisitive way. But it was also a 'no-touch' place, too. Not to mention something she'd never thought about before. Touching another girl there, that is.

But Twerp was her slave now, she reasoned, which meant she didn't have the right to any 'no-touch' places. And besides, Courtney was supposed to wash down all of her slave, not just the places that weren't embarrassing to touch. Besides, it was obvious Twerp was even less happy about this then she was, if that hot blush meant anything. So that made it lots easier for Courtney to do.

The sponge glided gently down one budding breast . . . and the world irrevocably changed for both of them at that moment.

Twerp's eyes flew wide open, huge and round. She sharply inhaled, let out a hissed breath as the moist, slippery sponge glided across her little breast, the grainy texture of the sponge rubbing over a tiny, hard, puckered rosy peak.

That sensation was powerful. Intense. Totally unexpected. Sasha was utterly unprepared for the electrifying, sharp tingling jolts that rippled through her at that. Her small body helplessly jerked and shivered. Her small chest, without conscious thought, pushed out. Tiny toes clenched hard and wriggled.

Courtney squeaked and leapt back, her own eyes no less round, paling a bit at Twerp's reaction, having no more idea to expect that then Twerp had, and frightened she'd somehow inadvertently hurt Twerp.

Twerp stared at Courtney with rounded, shocked, stunned eyes. Although the immediate powerful tingling sensation stopped as soon as the gliding sponge did, the remaining tingles left behind were stronger then ever, even if a great deal less then that instant had been. Nor did they seem in a hurry to disappear either.

For the life of her Courtney couldn't see how that could have hurt Twerp. Granted, she didn't have breasts yet, nor did her own tiny nipples look anything like Twerp's did, so she couldn't be sure, but, still!

She stepped closer again, her eyes locked onto Twerp's. Her slave whimpered as the sponge was slowly lifted back up again, looked at Courtney with huge pleading eyes. But, Courtney noticed, those nipples stayed hard and pointy. According to her Mom, that was a good sign, not a bad one. So, whatever had happened, it couldn't have been that awful!

The jury was still out on that as far as Sasha was concerned, however. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever before felt anything like that. And it had happened so fast, so unexpectedly, had been so powerful and intense she really couldn't say if it had been nice or not. Her tummy was getting more and more achy tingly, and her nipples were tingling so intensely they almost throbbed. She didn't, not at all, want Courtney to do that again, and whimpered at the understanding that it didn't matter at all what she wanted.

Still, she leaned back as far as the restraints permitted as Courtney brought the sponge closer and closer, frantically shaking her head side to side, imploringly. Then almost collapsed, small knees buckling as Courtney lightly swabbed her little breast again.

'Oh my!' Courtney thought with delight, seeing the reaction. Again there'd been that swift sharp inhale, that jerking forwards of her chest. In a flash of precocious insight Courtney decided this couldn't hurt after all. One didn't jerk a hand deeper into a fire, after all. You jerked it out!

Again and again Courtney gently glided the sponge over Twerp's breasts, fascinated with the reactions that produced. Reactions that increased the longer she laved.

Odd, panted breaths that whuffled through tiny flaring nostrils. Flushed skin. Eyes closed, head lolled back. Odd soft muffled humming muted by the gag. Small nipples that visibly tightened harder, smaller and more erect. Goosebumps on her little arms and legs. Small feet that shifted in the ankle cuffs, making the rings chime. Tiny toes that flexed, wriggled, clenched. Little naked body twisting and squirming.

And with every glide of the sponge over those rosy little peaks seeing Twerp's chest push out.

She didn't want to. Push out, that is. That was plain as day to Courtney. Twerp was frantically struggling to stay still, embarrassed and humiliated at her inability to do so. Courtney felt a sudden, abrupt and intense warmth flood her at that. As, again, the sensation of power and command filled her inside. Not only could she order Twerp around, she could make her body do things! Things Twerp didn't want to do, fought not to do!

The tide of sensation that filled Courtney at that moment was intoxicating. Stimulating. Addictive. Her skin felt tight and very warm. As did her insides, her tummy. Like gold, warm sunshine filling her head to toe. She liked this feeling! Liked it a lot!!

Courtney sponged Twerp's little breasts for several minutes, until her slave was a panting, weakly trembling, hotly blushing mess. 'Oh, this was fun!' she thought. But, she still had to finish washing Twerp down.

And then there was the punishment still to come, which, now, was even more exciting to think about.

Sasha, meanwhile, was a dazed, reeling, stunned wreck. Her little legs were quivering; no, vibrating. She couldn't seem to catch her breath, her heart was pounding, literally thudding in her chest. Her ears were ringing, her pulse thundering. She couldn't hold still, just kept writhing and twisting. For the life of her, if Courtney had threatened to paddle her senseless if she kept moving she couldn't have held still.

Nor could she keep from thrusting her chest out at each and every glide of that sponge. She'd tried at first. Oh, how she had tried! Horribly embarrassed at doing so, right there in front of her little cousin, because of what her little cousin was doing! But she could no more keep from thrusting out then she could have held still if given an electric shock. It was impossible!

It was like nothing she'd felt before. Or, so she'd thought at first. It wasn't until the fourth or fifth sponge-down that it finally percolated through her growing inchoate thoughts what that felt like. It was very much like when she rubbed or pressed up against the banister or bedpost. Not quite the same, no. And feeling more, well, 'distant'. But the tingles, the gentle yet growing warmth and throbbing was very close to being the same as that.

Sasha didn't know that was possible. To have feelings like that from rubbing her nipples. She'd never rubbed them before. Never even thought to try. And they were growing more and more sensitive, more responsive, the longer Courtney kept gliding the sponge over them. The tingles growing more intense, that warmth filling her more and more.

Worse, much worse, was when Sasha realized that, somehow, she was also starting to tingle in her tummy. Real low down. Just like she did when she banister rubbed. Just like how she felt when she daydreamed about this stuff. When she'd first gagged and cuffed herself from the poles. She couldn't tell if she was getting juicy again, as her entire tummy and crotch was wet from the water dribbling down from the sponging, but she was hideously certain that she was getting juicy. These feelings felt way too much the same. And she'd no idea how that was possible.

She tried to hold still. To resist those growing heated tingles. Tried to figure out what was going on, what was happening to her. She was dismayed to discover her body was slipping out of her control, responding to what Courtney was doing regardless of what Sasha wanted. As if Sasha was just a bystander in her own body, able to watch and feel but nothing else. As if she was Courtney's toy, and being played with as Courtney wanted.

Her thoughts started to tatter and shred, growing as ragged as her breathing. She desperately sought to hold onto them but they disintegrated like tissue in a hurricane until, by the time Courtney stopped sponging, all Sasha could do was feel.

Feel. And want.

Badly want. As she'd never wanted anything so ardently before in her life. She whimpered when the sponging stopped, pushed her little chest out, futilely seeking even more, sightlessly staring down at Courtney with enormous, grass-green eyes that seemed to burn in their depths.

Then furiously blushed as conscious thought abruptly snapped back into focus. As little tingles still rippled and coursed through her restrained, small, naked, panting body. At seeing Courtney staring at her. Gazing up with huge, wide gray eyes that gleamed. No, glowed. Radiant with delight, with pleasure, with satisfaction.

"I like making you squirm," she brightly chirped in her fluting, melodious, high-pitched piping voice. "I'm gonna make you squirm again, too," she added, then a wide grin split her face at Sasha's soft muffled dismayed moan. "Just not right now," she stated. "I've got to finish first."

Sasha moaned again, tiny toes clenching. No doubt at all in her mind that, if Courtney chose to make her squirm again, squirm she would indeed do! She'd been helpless to keep still before, and she didn't question she'd be helpless again the next time! And Courtney looked so eager to do that to her again, too!

Another hot tide of crimson flooded Sasha as Courtney reached up and sponged her small chin and the top of her chest. Only then did Sasha realize she'd started slobbering past the gag, and an utterly mortified muffled moan came from her. But Courtney didn't tease her about that happening. She didn't giggle or poke fun at her and, for some reason, that sent gentle warmth rippling through Sasha. She just matter-of-factly sponged the slobber off, then dipped the sponge in the bucket and started laving Sasha's tummy, sides, flanks and sleek hips. She didn't even look up, or giggle or grin, at the slurping sounds Sasha made as she struggled to get the growing pool of saliva where she could swallow it, sucking it to the back of her mouth.

She tensed as Courtney's sponging got lower and lower, then relaxed, heaving a sigh of deep relief, as Courtney bypassed her groin and started sponging down the front of her slender legs. Her relief was short-lived, however, as, once she'd washed all the way down then remoistened the sponge, Courtney gently rubbed it over her rump, washing off both firm, pert cheeks, then very gently traced the sponge between her legs, right over her mound.

Sasha only had moments to brace herself for that. But if she'd had a lifetime it wouldn't have mattered or helped. She'd barely had time to tense, to make a muffled squeal of rejection before the sponge gently rubbed over her mound.

And then her little legs quivered, small knees buckled as she gave a sharp breathy hiss. Courtney jerked her hand back, startled again, then beamed, looking up with a grin of delight again. This had been a very difficult for her to do. After all, this was her most private, most personal of parts, and she was very shy and self-conscious about actually looking at Twerp there, let alone touch her there! But she was supposed to sponge all of Twerp down, and all meant all. "Oooohhh!" she airily murmured. "That makes you squirm too?" she said with awed delight as she rubbed the sponge down a second time, a little firmer then before.

Courtney didn't need Twerp to answer, not the way her sleek little hips abruptly bucked out when she glided the sponge down over Twerp's smooth bare mound. Sasha's emerald eyes were huge, rounding out like saucers at the touch. It wasn't like banister pressing, but . . . it was, too. Deep little shivers rippled through her body at that slippery firm caress of the sponge, and her tummy tingled worse then ever before. She stared down at Courtney with huge, disbelieving eyes, then shuddered worse seeing her cousin's eager, joyful delighted expression, a dismayed moan at that. "Oooh, this is so kewl!" Courtney exclaimed.

Sasha was mortified, embarrassed beyond words and belief. She heartily wished Courtney - and that sponge-far, far, away. Yet, even as she stood there, futilely trying to close her legs, there was no small part of her that yearned to push outwards, craved to press against that sponge again. Sasha hoped, prayed that Courtney couldn't sense that. That would just be too awful to happen, having Courtney figure out how that actually made Sasha feel inside.

Courtney stood up, her urchin grin fading as she somewhat reluctantly yet wistfully sighed. "Maybe later," she promised, dropping the sponge into the pail then taking the soft fluffy towel and patting Twerp dry. Sasha's tiny toes clenched and wriggled at that, a deep sigh of relief and unexpected escape gusting through tiny flared nostrils. The torment - if it could actually be called that; she wasn't quite sure if she could - was almost over, it seemed. She closed her eyes, relaxing as she was gently toweled off.

She had so much to think about. Things like being gently taken care of while she was utterly helpless. That was . . . odd. Weird. But nice. It was almost like being pampered. Almost. Being restrained and naked against her will and wishes put a far different 'spin' on that, though. What she really had to think about, however, was how all this was making her feel inside. Making her feel, again, against her wishes and will.

It was an extremely difficult mental struggle and conundrum. On the one hand, try as she might, Sasha couldn't deny how most of this was feeling. Nice. Very nice. Wonderful. The tingles, the heat, the shivery throbbing in her tummy. Her nipples. The soft, warm, glowiness in her body. Very much like banister pressing, in fact, and she never minded that!

On the other hand, she'd no choice in what was being done. How it was being done. No choice in wanting, or seeking, those nice feelings herself. They either were just happening on their own, it seemed, or being pressed and pushed onto her no matter how she might resist them. And, somehow, simply by trying to resist and then failing, by understanding she had no choice, that only seemed to make those shivery tingles even worse.

Her ruminations came to an abrupt, screeching shocking halt moments later as Courtney folded up the towel and replaced it on the table before standing in front of Sasha again. "Now that I'm done with that," she said, "it's time to start 'discussing' your punishments."

Wide shocked eyes stared down at Courtney. Then, for an instant a bubble of mirth jiggled inside Sasha at what she saw before her. Standing there, tiny fists on sleek curveless hips was Courtney, in a pose identical to that of her Aunt or Mom when they were really pee-oed and about to read the riot act. Ordinarily seeing her cousin doing something that ludicrous would have had Sasha braying in scornful, derisive laughter, sputtering in contempt at her theatrics.

But that momentary touch of merriment died at birth. Sasha gulped, deeply shuddered. Courtney didn't look at all playful, at all facetious. Her expression was utterly solemn and serious, and Sasha felt a wave of dread rush through her. Exactly the same feeling she'd felt in the past when called on the carpet. It didn't matter that she had to look down at those grim, implacable eyes rather then up. It didn't matter that Courtney was so much smaller and tinier. Somehow, at this very moment, it was Sasha that felt about an inch tall.

"Bhhh ahh dhhhnnhh uuhhh hhnnhhffpphh!" she wailed, panicked and protesting. She hadn't done anything wrong! Then paled, her blushes disappearing like draining water, tensing like steel, realizing she'd spoken. She shuddered harder seeing Courtney's eyes narrow in displeasure. Sasha wildly looked around, as if seeking escape, looking anywhere but at Courtney.

Courtney took a deep breath. She'd been mentally rehearsing this speech ever since she'd started downstairs and, except for the few minutes she'd been distracted making Twerp helplessly squirm, she'd continued that mental recitation. She knew she'd be punishing Twerp after sponging her down and was determined to do everything properly.

The stance. The look. The tone of voice.

Everything.

A little tingly shiver raced through Courtney at Twerp's reaction. It was everything she dreamed this could be. Her big, older cousin was trembling! Scared of Courtney! Well, more properly, scared of what Courtney might do, rather then Courtney herself.

"I'm very mad at what you've done to me ever since you came here," she said in a stern, soft voice that still sounded piping. Still glaring at Twerp with a cold hard gaze she continued. "You've been a mean bully to me. Treated me like crap. Poked fun at me, called me names. Made me choose between lying to my Mom or telling her what happened, knowing I'd get punished if I told her. You could have been nice, just pretended I hadn't shown you what I did but, oh no! You had to be wicked and blackmail me!"

Throughout all this Sasha kept shuddering, remained pale as ice. She desperately tried avoiding looking at either Courtney or the stuff on the tabletop but she couldn't keep from glancing at either now and then. She was horribly aware that Courtney was really pissed at her, and that her Aunt was nowhere around to keep Courtney from using anything on that table she wanted to use on Sasha.

Courtney closed her eyes a moment then took a deep breath before looking back up at her slave. "But that's not what these punishments are gonna be about." Sasha gulped again at hearing the plural there, a soft muffled whine that she couldn't stop at her words.

"You're already being punished for all that. And will be all this summer, by being a slave instead of our guest," Courtney stated, then fixed Twerp with a very serious look. There was a long, dreadful pause and then, "You were told, slave, not to speak without being spoken to first, weren't you? That a slave was to call my Mom 'Ma'am'. And me 'Mistress'. Instead you insist on calling Mom 'Aunt Samantha' and me 'Courtney'."

"And twerp, and jerk, and doofwad," she added, her piping voice getting softer yet more menacing. "Then you went ahead and yelled at me. You tried to give me orders. Tried to tell me what to do. Well Twerp, you were told the rules. And what would happen if you broke them. Maybe you thought all this was nothing but a joke but, if you did . . .,"

Sasha's tummy got an awful, fluttery-hollow feeling, the same she got in the past when the 'moment of truth' had arrived and, like it or not, understood there was going to be no reprieve. Courtney walked over and, with quite a bit of straining, huffing and puffing, lifted Sasha high enough up to push the thick phone book back out from under Sasha's small bare feet. Setting her back down on the cool gleaming tiles then crouching down she ordered, "Spread your feet apart Twerp. Slowly. Until I say to stop."

Sasha didn't want to move her feet apart. She'd only just started feeling the strain in her neck, arms and shoulders easing up. However, with the memory of how Courtney had 'helped' move her feet apart last time - with a hard shove against the inside of an ankle - still vivid in her mind, Sasha was very aware that, if she didn't move her own feet apart as she was just told to do, Courtney sure had ways of moving them apart. Painful ways!

With little halting, fumbling, squirming wriggles of her feet, Sasha was able to carefully move them apart. The tiled floor helped, the surface of the glazed little squares quite smooth and slick. Too slick, she recalled with chagrin, remembering her misfortune, the calamity of her feet sliding apart unexpectedly and thus trapping her in her current predicament.

As her feet started getting further and further apart, as lithe little legs started opening wider and wider Sasha started nervously whimpering. Then gave a sigh of relief when Courtney muttered, "OK Twerp. You can stop there now." Her little heels were still on the floor. Barely, but still there, so her weight wasn't all on her small cuffed wrists again like before.

Then Sasha stiffened in shock, paling. Huge rounded eyes helplessly gazed down as Courtney simply picked the hairbrushed-shaped paddle up and marched to stand behind her. Attachment rings chimed and jingled as she jerked, Sasha gave a little muted mewl of dismay.

Standing behind Twerp Courtney took another deep breath, preparing herself. She still felt a bit nervous about truly paddling Twerp but, unlike the first time she'd done that, this time she felt a little tingly shiver of excitement and power racing through her. A tiny, pink tonguetip peeked out past small, soft, warm lips, glided back and forth moistening them. Courtney couldn't tear her gaze from Twerp's bottom, now totally bare and naked before her. Unlike before, when the swimsuit bottoms had still covered and concealed. A bottom whose cheeks were, even now, reflexively tightening. Clenching as Twerp braced for the impending paddling she couldn't do a thing about preventing or avoiding.

*whack* *smack* *crack* *smack* *whack* *whack* *smack* *crack*

One after another, like a metronome of doom, the paddle sharply landed, the impact echoing in the room. Sasha shrieked and cried, hollered and bawled, those pained cries muted, saliva drooling down her chin and dripping onto her chest as she howled. Hopping up and down on her toes, unable to truly dance or kick her legs, not with her ankles still firmly cuffed and secured.

Courtney winced a little with each impact. No matter that she wasn't on the receiving end, she certainly could empathize with how they must feel! Yet, her huge gray eyes were sparkling, brightly gleaming. Electric little shivery tingles were racing through her. She felt breathless. A mile high. Floating on clouds.

She didn't rush the paddling. She took her time, waiting to land the next one until Twerp stopped jerking and bucking, waited until her slave's small, firm, pert cheeks stopped tightening. With every swat she avidly watched, seeing how the flat, sturdy paddle flattened Twerp's cheek when it landed. How it changed the hue of her skin from creamy fair to a ruddy glow.

The paddle was wide enough, and Twerp's butt small enough, that Courtney could have fully covered a cheek, top to bottom, with three overlapped ovals. But she was too unsure of her skill with the paddle to chance that. She didn't want to risk accidentally hitting too high and smacking bone, nor too low and hitting thigh. Mom had been very clear about that point: the paddle was for her slave's bottom, and bottom only. So Courtney simply placed each following swat right atop the other. By the time she'd finished all eight - and she'd decided to do two less then the maximum; she didn't want Mom to think she went overboard her first time punishing Twerp on her own - Twerp's bottom was a bright, hot scarlet in the middle, the outline of the paddle quite vividly contrasted against the cool white of the rest of her butt.

By the second swat Twerp was squealing. By the fourth, crying out. By the sixth, desperately pleading and begging, sounds of woe, sorrow, contrition and appeals for mercy.

At least that's what Courtney guessed they were. It was awful hard to tell. That gag thing in her mouth really muffled her noises, she hadn't a clue what Twerp was trying to say, everything just sounded so faint, mushy and mumbled. However, having been paddled herself, Courtney had a fairly good idea what Twerp was trying to say.

She was quite breathless by the end, feeling flushed, very warm and tingly inside. Courtney liked how she felt. How it felt to paddle her slave. Especially on the bare! How it felt knowing she had the right to do that!

Courtney closed her eyes and lightly shivered at the strength of sensations flooding her. And she was only just getting started!

Twerp had ceased trying to form words, right now was just bawling and sobbing. Courtney licked her lips again, feeling like she'd just rode a hunter course. She decided to stand there a little while, her legs felt rubbery wobbly and she wasn't sure she could walk without falling down. While she tried to regain her composure she wondered what, if anything, she should do about Twerp's vocal cries during the paddling. On the one hand she'd been told to keep quiet. On the other hand, much as Courtney liked the idea of calling Twerp on that, she wasn't sure if that would really be fair. She thoughtfully nibbled her small lower lip between gleaming, tiny white teeth as she pondered that.

When Mom punished her, Courtney recalled, there came a time when Mom would firmly tell Courtney 'Enough is enough. Not another word.' That was usually right before she either was given her 'marching orders - as in told to go to her room, stand in the corner, and so on - or wound up over Mom's lap. Fussing after that did earn extra punishment. But crying out as Twerp had done during a spanking or paddling never did.

'I guess Mom doesn't expect me to be able to keep quiet during that,' Courtney reasoned. 'So I guess I shouldn't expect for, or make, Twerp to remain quiet either.' She'd double check with Mom, later, to see if she figured things right. Just in case. But, this time, she wasn't going to add extra because Twerp spoke up.

She stared with fascination at Twerp's glowing, ruddy rump. She'd never seen a paddling from this viewpoint before, and it was way kewl. Everything had been, from watching her butt flatten out as she whacked it to seeing it change colors. She couldn't wait to paddle Twerp again and, knowing her slave, she figured it wouldn't be long at all before she had a real, legitimate reason to do just that.

She took a test step, making sure her legs weren't wobbly, before padding back around. She put the paddle down on the table before turning to face Twerp, again consciously posing like her Mom did. Twerp was a mess. Her face glistened with the track of hot, scalding tears, and she'd started drooling again, sticky threads of slobber trickling down her small chin and dripping onto her chest. Mom had told her that would probably happen if she wound up gagging Twerp, so she wasn't surprised.

What did surprise her was how that made her feel inside. When Mom had told her about it, upstairs in the kitchen, she'd giggled at the thought, thinking that extremely funny. And, in an itsy-bitsy way it was still funny to see Twerp helplessly slobbering like a baby. But, more then anything, it made Courtney feel . . . powerful. That wasn't really the right word, but Courtney couldn't think of a better one. It was kinda like knowing that Courtney had the power to put that in Twerp's mouth, and so had the power of deciding whether to make Twerp drool against her will, or not.

Awesome!

Twerp was looking at her with enormous pleading eyes. Courtney had no doubt that, at this moment, Twerp was utterly repentant, truly sorry. She also had no doubt that, once she recovered, she'd be furious with Courtney and wanting nothing more then revenge. Well, that was just too bad, because she wasn't going to ever get that chance.

When Courtney picked up the riding crop Twerp tensed, shuddered hard enough to rattle the rings, making them chime like sleigh bells. She paled so badly her veins were visible, little pale blue threads just under her translucent skin. Huge panicked eyes wildly darted all around, seeking escape, rescue, anything.

Lightly tapping the folded, stitched leather tip against a tiny palm Courtney said, "I'm going to make sure you have a very good idea what to expect the next time you're stupid enough to break rules, Twerp," then again stepped behind her slave.

Sasha's heart thundered in her chest. She felt faint. Queasy. She felt her blood drain from her face; from her body, it seemed, all the way down to her toes. She whimpered. Heard herself whimper and didn't care that she sounded like a frightened baby.

Because she was frightened. Terribly so. Other then the paddle (which closely resembled hairbrushes which she'd regrettably had the displeasure and misfortune of having been used on her before) Sasha had selected things which looked wicked. However, there had been plenty of other items whose appearance were much nastier looking that she'd passed over, not even wanting to daydream imagine those things used on her. But the three she had chosen - the wide leather strap, the lash thingie and the riding crop - had all been things that weren't exceedingly scary.

To daydream imagine about, that is.

However, at this very moment her cousin was holding that riding crop in her hand, with obviously every intention of using it on Sasha, and daydreams abruptly, once again, snapped into sickening reality.

The handle was thin, braided black leather topped with a shiny chrome cap and a small leather carrying loop. The body was even more slender, a rippled length of semi-flexible fiberglass rod ending twenty-four inches away in a triangular flat section of folded leather about two inches wide at its furthest edge. All of it was black, and the color seemed, somehow, threatening even as it softly gleamed under the lights.

Sasha didn't know what that would feel like used on her. Had, flat out, absolutely no desire to find out. It looked frightening. Terrifying. She whimpered again, her tummy feeling even more unsettled and nauseous. Small hands and ankles jerked at the cuffs. Then jerked harder, almost violently, as Courtney took another step, clearly intending to walk behind Sasha and use that thing on her!

She felt herself bordering on mindless panic, poised on the threshold of hysterically breaking. Ice coursed through her as adrenaline pumped into her, igniting fight-or-flight. But . . . she could do neither.

Had Sasha not been at the end of her resources, if she hadn't been pushed as far as she already had been, she wouldn't have reacted as profoundly as she did. But, she was, and she had been.

Her violent, unexpected recoil certainly took Courtney by surprise as she started padding behind her. It was much more extreme that Courtney had expected, much more so then when facing being paddled. Courtney's first flush of pleased excitement seeing Twerp so wildly apprehensive faded as it slowly dawned on her just how extreme that really was. Backpedaling Courtney stood in front of her slave again, looking up with now-concerned eyes.

"Jeez Twerp, don't freak out!" she said. "It's not gonna be that bad!"

Twerp's expression showed utter disbelief. She whimpered again, louder, shuddered harder.

Courtney deeply sighed, perching a tiny fist on one little hip as she stood hipshot, still holding the crop in her other small hand. "Twerp, I'm not gonna harm you," she reassured. "Honest. It's nowhere near as bad as the paddle is," she stated.

Again Twerp didn't seem to believe that. After all, how the heck would Courtney know that?

Her expression took a slightly stunned cast as Courtney explained just how she would know that fact. "Mom made sure I'd know what it felt like first," she explained to her shivering, trembling slave. "It's not nice, no," she continued, "but it isn't awful terrible either. I can tell you don't want me to," she gave a little shrug, "but I'm gonna anyway."

Sasha felt a moment of bewildered disbelief. Courtney had been cropped by her Mom? Even through her fright she could see the concern in Courtney's eyes. That made her feel a little bit better, as did knowing Courtney knew what this would feel like. A little bit better, anyway. But her tummy dropped down to her toes again as Courtney simply stated that, whether or not Sasha wanted this to happen, she was just gonna do it anyway.

Sasha couldn't do a thing at all about what was happening. A sensation she was rapidly, and very unhappily, growing accustomed to. All she could do was stare with wide, imploring eyes as Courtney stepped behind her again. Whimper, jerk, squirm and tense in preparation for that awful horrifying pain.

*pop*

"Mmffpphh!" Sasha rocked all the way up on tiptoes, a muffled squeal as the tip sharply struck just below her left butt cheek, right at the top of a little, slender, muscled thigh. That stung!!

Quite a few seconds passed as Sasha danced, jerked, whimpered and twisted. She finally settled down, breathing hard and quivering, only to hear Courtney confirm from behind, "See? Toldya it wasn't that awful!"

Actually . . . it really wasn't, Sasha considered. It assuredly wasn't pleasant, no. Not by any means. But it wasn't anywhere near as horrible as she'd expected it to be. It had quite sharply stung, almost fiercely so, at the moment of impact. But that intensity had quickly eased, leaving behind little more then a gently throbbing, stinging sensation. It wasn't something she wanted to feel again, certainly not on bare skin, but neither was it horrendous.

She'd just settled down, her breathing slowing from its semi-hysterical pants, when . . .

*pop*

Another one landed, the exact same spot just on her other leg. Taken by surprise she reacted the same way, squealing, jerking, rocking up on her toes.

Only a few seconds passed this time, not quite enough for her to fully calm back down, when another one landed, this one at the very top of her pert right cheek, then another at the top of her left.

*pop* *pop* *pip* *pop* *pip* *pop* *pop* *pip* *pip* *pop* *pop* *pip*

One after another the crop licked Sasha's bare skin. Sometimes one right after the other, sometimes a second between, sometimes several long seconds. Sasha couldn't tell when, or where, the next would land. And they were striking over a much broader range then the paddle had, or that Sasha had ever experienced before as punishment.

Her bottom, most assuredly. The back of slender lithe legs. The outside, and inside, of trembling muscled thighs. Her flanks and the sides of her sleek hips. Each new strike created an immediate intense sting which quickly blended into the gradually growing, overall tingling, heated sensation covering her skin, where the others had landed.

And, somehow, her inner tingling heat had reignited again. The unavoidable popping stings, her helplessness to stop or get away, the growing tingling burny feeling of her skin, the sensation of the cuffs locked about her wrists and ankles, the awareness of being naked, of being cropped . . . all that somehow was joining in with her inner tingly fire. Making that grow more and more intense.

Not like it had been, earlier, with the sponge, no. But, not unlike it, either, she realized, shivering, wanting nothing more at this moment then the ability to banister press and rub, to do something to ease that achy feeling in the pit of her tummy.

Courtney's eyes glowed with delight and glee as she cropped her slave. This was great fun! she exulted, thoroughly enjoying watching Twerp as she danced and squirmed, whimpered and writhed As her bare, naked skin turned a light, soft pink everywhere the crop licked, hearing Twerp's little muffled squeals and squeaks each time the crop landed. With enthusiastic delight Courtney continued popping the crop all over Twerp, as her own breathing grew fast and shallow, feeling quite a bit warm inside.

Twerp was breathing a bit fast, too, she noted. Odd panty moans interrupted by squeals when the crop landed. Obviously she couldn't figure out where or how to squirm to try avoiding the crop, Courtney assumed, seeing how Twerp was now rocking, rolling and circling her hips in an odd way. Actually, her whole body was sorta writhing in an odd way, she noticed. Kinda snakelike and wriggly.

Taking a breather Courtney gazed at Twerp, admiring her work, very pleased and delighted at how she'd pinkened pretty much everything from her butt down to the backs of her knees. She couldn't wait to move in front, where she could also do Twerp's tummy from there. Not to mention Twerp's squeals when she realized her front was gonna be cropped now, too!

Courtney was a little disappointed when she finally did move to stand in front. Twerp's eyes were closed, her head lolled back a bit, so she couldn't very well see Courtney move to stand up front. Oh well. She'd sure figure things out real quick when the first one landed, after all!

Then her little jaw dropped when she spotted Twerp's nipples. Hard, tightly puckered, quite rosy tiny peaks. Just like they'd been when Courtney had been sponging her slave before. How the heck did that happen? she wondered, puzzled. She reached out with the crop and lightly caressed the tip over one of them, then jumped as Twerp squeaked, gave an airy, breathy moan and bucked her chest out.

Oh my!

Courtney was quite confused. From what Mom had said they got hard like then when Twerp was excited, when something felt real good. But Courtney had been cropping her, punishing her, not doing something nice! That didn't make any sense; she'd have to ask Mom about that later.

Twerp was gazing down at her with enormous, glazed eyes. They seemed huge, bigger then Courtney remembered, as they stared down at her. She didn't even seem to see Courtney standing there, just kept her chest pushed out, kept wriggling in that odd snakey way.

Shrugging little shoulders Courtney dismissed the mystery for another time. After all, she still had the thrill of cropping the front of her slave to look forward to. She lowered her eyes, brought the crop back for a smack . . .

Her little jaw dropped again, a look of fright and horror in her eyes. Dropping the crop she turned around then raced for the door. "Mom! Mom!! Come quick!" she was yelling as she pelted towards the exit, her voice shrill and panicked.