Courtney was busily drying off the dishes, baby bottle, skillet and utensils when Samantha walked back into the kitchen. "Hi Mom," she greeted, looking over her small shoulder as Samantha entered. She was standing at the counter, sockfooted, atop a small step stool so she could reach the sink. Her boots were neatly sitting side by side next to her chair at the kitchen table, removed so she could more easily - and safely - stand on the little kitchen stool.

"Hello baby. How did it go?" Samantha asked, smiling at her daughter as she industriously cleaned up.

"Pretty good," she replied, wiping her tiny hands on the dish towel after putting the last spoon in the dish rack. "I didn't have any trouble finding the cage door key or using it. And Twerp didn't fuss hardly at all," sounding amazed as she answered her Mom.

"Well, she's still probably feeling overwhelmed still. A lot's happened to her in just a very short time, after all."

Daintily stepping down off the stool Courtney said, sounding a touch frustrated and dismayed, "You make it sound like you expect her to go back to her old self," meaning, not the old-old Sasha, but how she'd been ever since she showed up this summer.

"What's the matter sweetheart?" Samantha asked, placing a set of stacked printouts on the table before going over to pour herself a cup of coffee.

Courtney gave a gusty sigh. "Nothing's the matter. Exactly." Then gave the stacked papers on the table a hard look, little feathery gold brows furrowing, gazing at them as if they were snakes about to strike.

Samantha didn't miss the tone or the look. "Wishing you hadn't agreed to take Twerp on sweetheart?" she asked.

"N-o-o-o-o-o. Not exactly," she amended, then turned to put the stool back, opening the undercounter cabinet and placing it inside. Closing the door she turned and faced her Mom. "That's more work and lessons for me, isn't it?" she asked, temporizing.

Samantha nodded. "Some of it is, yes." Instead of probing she just waited, trusting Courtney to speak her mind . . . when she finally sorted out her feelings, anyway.

Plopping on the chair she placed small elbows on the table top then rested her little chin on tiny balled fists. She didn't look at either the papers or her Mom, simply sat there, a pensive, not quite brooding, expression on her face.

"It's not that I wish I hadn't agreed to this, Mom," she finally said in a soft, fluting voice. "It's just that it's a whole lot more work then I thought it would be. And a whole lot more responsibility, too. Plus," she continued, peeking sideways at her Mom, "other stuff, too. I don't wanna sound whiny or anything, but I was really looking forwards to the trips we were supposed to take to the Water Theme Park. And going on picnics and stuff, too. And now we can't go. We can't do anything like that, cuz it isn't safe to leave Twerp all alone if you and I go on our own. And we can't take her with us neither."

Sipping her coffee Samantha nodded. "No, you're right sweetheart. It isn't safe to leave her alone, and we really can't take her with us, either. Not this year, anyway. And it is a lot of work for you. It would be a lot of work for me, and I don't have to also be taught everything from scratch, as well as train a brand-new slave in addition to that."

There really wasn't anything Courtney could say to that, as Mom had pretty much agreed with what she'd said.

"Still, you should have some sort of compensation for your hard work," Samantha announced. "Well, in addition to having your own slave to play with however you like. In fact, I was thinking about that very same thing just a little bit ago, while I was printing out these," she said, tapping the printouts with an elegantly tapered nail. Courtney looked at her then, a bit curious. "About your showing Twerp the hidden panel, and then not telling me about that, and hiding what she was doing from me all this week," Samantha told her daughter, who abruptly tensed and looked quite apprehensive. "I'm sure we both understand, and agree, that you showed poor judgment in that, yes? That you definitely broke a very clear rule?"

Courtney swallowed, stared down at her tiny socked toes and whispered, "Yes Ma'am."

"You'd earned a punishment for that. But, I've also given that a lot of thought, too," Samantha continued, as Courtney peeked up at her mom out of the very corner of one huge eye. "Although punishing you for that would be just . . . considering that Twerp's punishment, in it's way, is also something she wants, too, it wouldn't be exactly fair. So one thing I've decided is this: since you've agreed to take on Twerp as your slave, and be responsible for her and her training, you're sort of 'on parole'."

"There's one condition to that parole," Samantha explained. "As long as you continue accepting that responsibility, you're held accountable for your actions and the resulting consequences. If it gets too much for you to handle, and you decide you've had enough and want to stop, as long as up to then you've been acquitting yourself, then your punishment will be dropped. Even if tomorrow you want to stop, and you've been doing everything just fine. "

Courtney nibbled her small, full, soft lower lip between tiny, white, dazzling teeth. "S-o-o-o-o," she slowly asked, "you mean it's not whether I keep doing it. Just as long as I'm careful and work hard for as long as I agree to keep doing it?"

Smiling, Samantha nodded. "Yes sweetheart. It's not meant as a bribe, or something unpleasant hanging over your head that makes you go on when you'd really rather stop. I don't want you agreeing to train and take care of Twerp just to avoid a punishment. I want you to continue only if you want that."

Courtney nodded. That made sense to her. She felt even better when Mom added, "And I forgive you, too. I don't want it to happen again, but I forgive you."

Courtney visibly relaxed. Being forgiven was more meaningful, much more important, to her then having a just-earned punishment taken away. She'd felt more unhappy, upset and awful inside over knowing she'd transgressed a rule, violated a trust and promise, broken her word, then she'd felt distressed over the impending punishment.

"Thanks Mom," she whispered, relief and contrition in her voice.

Samantha reached across the table and gently ruffled her daughter's thick, soft hair. "I love you baby, with all my heart," she tenderly murmured.

Gentle warmth filled Courtney as she wriggled at that. "I love you, too, Mom!" she said, smiling up at her.

"I'm very proud of you, too. You've been doing extremely well with Twerp," Samantha praised.

"It's hard at times," Courtney admitted. "I'm so afraid of messing things up. Doing something wrong."

Samantha understandingly nodded. "That's why I knew you'd be perfect for Twerp. You wouldn't treat this as a game, or just a way to get even with her. You'd be very responsible and dependable."

Again Courtney squirmed and wriggled, Mom's sincere praise feeling like basking in sunshine. However, like any child, she hadn't forgotten what else had been implied. "You said 'one thing'. Does that mean there's more?"

Samantha smothered a grin at the eager look of anticipation on her face. "There'll be more, yes. I just haven't decided what, yet. I'd thought you'd rather talk things over with me. Sort of haggle, as it were," she said with a grin, getting a matching one in return. "It might be more of an allowance. Later bedtimes. You getting to decide what's for dinner, and maybe even have you help me make it."

"Wow!" Courtney softly breathed in excitement, huge gray eyes sparkling, feeling as if she'd just been handed the keys to a bank vault and told to help herself to the contents.

"You could even choose additional outfits. Both for you and for your slave. If that's something you think might interest you, that is."

Courtney nibbled her tiny pinky nail, then gave a little shrug of one small shoulder. "I dunno Mom. I'd hafta see what they looked like."

"There's no hurry sweetheart. Like I said, we've plenty of time to sit down together and talk about what you think is fair compensation for all your hard work with Twerp."

"OK Mom," Courtney nodded. "I do need to think. I wasn't expecting anything like that, and it just kinda, well . . ." as she gave another little shrug, "kinda took me by surprise. You know?"

"Yes baby," Samantha warmly smiled. "I know. By the way, I don't want you feeling overwhelmed. You won't always be making Twerp's meals. Or cleaning up after. I'll be helping you with that. Actually, in almost every way this will be a dual effort, we'll be working together. The only aspect that is entirely in your hands will be having the ultimate say, the final word, in what is, and is not, done to and with your slave."

Courtney tried hiding the utter relief she felt at that, starting to wonder if she was gonna be doing everything all on her own. She didn't think she'd mind that for a day or two. But, all summer?? Jeez! She'd be going nuts in only a week!

"We have some things to go over first before we go back downstairs," Samantha said, again tapping the stacked papers with her nail tip.

"Like what?" Courtney asked somewhat warily, cannily detecting even more work like a great white shark scenting a blood trail in the water.

"Well, several things. But, first off, I just wanted to tell you again how very proud I am with how well you are doing. You're handling Twerp with just the right touch. And that's something that's very hard to teach a new Mistress." Courtney softly blushed, wriggling in delight at the praise. "It's far easier to teach someone the mechanics of being a Mistress - for instance, how to use restraints, gags, paddles; what sort of things slaves need to be taught, the sequence of instructions and the best ways to do that - then it is to teach them, well, what I call 'attitude'.

"Attitude?" Courtney repeated.

Nodding, Samantha stressed, "Attitude. Remember my telling you, before we went down the very first time, to seem distant? Not to react to whatever you saw?" Samantha continued when Courtney nodded. "That's part of 'attitude'. 'Image'. So that everything a slave sees and senses, consciously and unconsciously, only emphasizes her submission, her being controlled by her Mistress. Do you know why I had you seem distant that time?"

Courtney wished she did know, as much due to her innate desire to understand as wanting to make Mom even more proud of her, but she honestly answered, "No. Not really."

"There are going to be plenty of times when a slave wants attention," Samantha carefully explained. "Or wants her Mistress to react to what is going on. She might be uncomfortable and want easing of that. Or wants attention because she is feeling ignored and forgotten. Or wants more nice touches. Or even wants to see that something the slave is or isn't doing is making her Mistress react to that. In a way, giving the slave the power to make her Mistress feel things she might not have felt otherwise. In each one of those cases it can give the slave the sense that she has control over her Mistress. Subtle power, true, but control nonetheless."

Courtney slowly nodded, seeing the point. She didn't do it often, but there were times when, unhappy about a rule or restriction, she'd gotten unhappy with her Mom and had said things that made perfect sense, but also 'scored' on her Mom. Afterwards she'd always felt awful about that, but at the time it gave her a sensation of control, knowing she could make her Mom feel bad, or even hurt her feelings.

Samantha could see her daughter reasoning all that through, patiently waiting until she slowly nodded again in understanding. "A slave needs to understand, absolutely accept, that she cannot manipulate her Mistress. Not by words, not by actions. Not even with body language. That's why it's so important to always remain in control of your own self. And you're doing just perfect that way."

Courtney felt warm all over at that, wriggling in her chair.

"Now, if you want to react or respond to something your slave says or does, you certainly can. As long as you want to do that, chose to do that. And it isn't just automatically responding to what you see or hear."

"S-o-o-o-o," Courtney hesitantly drawled. "Like, if Twerp's like she was before, by her hands and feet, and is real uncomfy and groaning . . . if I wanna pay attention to that I can. But I don't hafta? I don't hafta let her know or see I noticed?"

"Exactly!" Samantha praised. "That's exactly right baby! Courtney felt so big inside at understanding! At how proud Mom was of her! "As her Mistress, you should always be aware of what's going on. Your slave doesn't have to know that, though. She doesn't have to know that you've noticed, or that you care what she's feeling or experiencing."

Now, that made sense to Courtney, and helped her understand better why Mom had told her to act as she had. "It makes her feel more helpless, doesn't it?" she shrewdly asked. "Makes her feel more like I really am in control?"

"Oh yes," Samantha warmly smiled, very pleased that Courtney grasped the concept. "But that's the easy part."

Courtney looked dismayed. "Easy part?"

Samantha nodded. "Easy part. Because a Mistress isn't always, nor doesn't want, to appear distant and unconcerned. Ignoring all the time. Sometimes reacting to things at the right time is just what a slave needs to see."

Taking a sip of her coffee before continuing Samantha smiled at her daughter, who was starting to look a tad overwhelmed. "Let me give you two examples, both of which, I might add, I think you did perfectly." Courtney perked up at that, pleased at hearing she'd done well at something she hadn't even realized she'd done. "One was when you went to touch your slave, and she pulled back. Rather then pretending you hadn't seen that, instead of ignoring it, you simply swatted her once and, quite matter of factly told her to hush up and hold still. You didn't get angry, you just gave her a 'reminder' and kept right on going on."

"That showed her you'd noticed what she'd done but that she couldn't provoke you. Couldn't change what was happening," Samantha continued explaining. Courtney was quite pleased that she'd done the right thing, but was also puzzled. She'd just, well . . . she hadn't thought about what she'd done, she'd just done it, was all.

"The other was when you'd wanted her to suck on her gag. Remember that?"

Oh yes, she certainly did! Courtney softly blushed again at that memory, a gentle warmth filling her at that recollection. It had felt so, so . . . so awesome, ordering Twerp to do that, then watching and listening to her do it!

"Instead of swatting her over and over to get her to do that, or threatening your slave with being paddled again, you coaxed and encouraged her along. You let her see how excited you'd be to see her to that. Let her understand how pleasing she could be to you doing that. Which made her want to obey. Not out of fear of punishment, but out of a wish to be pleasing to you."

Courtney hadn't looked at it that way. To be honest, she hadn't consciously thought about it at all. It had just, well, felt right. Then her sharp mind remembered how Mom had started this part of the talk, saying how some things were harder to teach a new Mistress then others. "Is that what you meant Mom? Having the 'touch'?" she asked.

Samantha nodded, proud once again at her daughter. "Exactly! Yes baby, that's what I meant. And it isn't something I can teach. I can help guide and explain, but I really can't teach it. It's just something a person already has in them, or they pick it up over time. I think you're doing wonderfully, and are just perfect for Twerp."

Courtney gave her Mom a radiant happy smile, squirming in her chair. "I'll still give you suggestions as to what might work best for what you'll be doing, but I'm confident you'll handle things fine. I'll keep talking with you after, to critique what you might have done. Offer suggestions and hints. But I think you've got the 'attitude' aspect down real well."

"Where you need instruction, for now," she continued, "is on the mechanics. Things like what restraints are used for certain things, and why. The different types of gags, how they work and what they do. How to properly use the things downstairs to tie, secure and restrain your slave. All the different types of things used for play, correction and punishment, like the floggers, lashes, canes, and stuff: how they are used, the differences between them."

Courtney cringed a little at that. In a very soft voice, "I first hafta feel what they are before I can use any of them though, huh?"

Samantha stilled at that as a sudden thought hit her, triggered by that question. She was a firm believer in that everyone using something on someone else should have a very good idea just what that felt like themselves. It was what she called 'calibration'. So that one had a very good idea just what an item would feel like when used. And Samantha had every intention of 'calibrating' her daughter if she wanted to use anything new. But . . .

But . . . whips, tawses, straps, paddles, floggers and others of that ilk weren't the only things down there available to use. Not at all. Not by a long shot.

Samantha hadn't made up her mind yet, one way or the other, about using the other items. Vibrators. Dildos. Butt plugs. Nipple clamps. Cremes. Lotions and oils. An extensive list of those things for pleasure and/or sexual play. Oh, she'd had passing images of using them on Twerp, true. And was more then a little positive how Twerp would respond to those being used.

But . . . what she hadn't ever considered was the potential necessity of 'calibrating' Courtney about those!

Samantha knew what every one of those felt like when they were used. She'd personally experienced at least one of each type, often for no other reason then to possess an intimate understanding of the range of sensation - either pleasure, pain or, in some instances, both - her toys could induce and produce.

And Courtney would require that same, intimate, personal understanding if she wanted to use any of those things on her slave, too.

Her mind shied away from that thought, like a spooked horse from a fright. It had been intense enough picturing doing any of that with Twerp. But it was a great deal more intense picturing doing any of that to her own daughter!

"Ummm, yes baby," she distractedly answered. Giving a little shake of her head she refocused her attention. "Yes, you do, if you want to use anything new on your slave. Not all of them are awful," she said with a smile, seeing Courtney's reaction. "Quite a few are surprisingly mild, and actually enjoyable."

She struggled not to laugh at Courtney's goggle-eyed look of disbelief. "I'll show you some like those," she promised. "I think you might be surprised." It was obvious that Courtney didn't believe that was possible, but it was also obvious she trusted and believed her Mom, and seeing that mental battle going on inside her head almost had Samantha laugh again.

"Ummm, baby?" Samantha softly said, her tone so diffident and cautious that it snapped Courtney out of her preoccupation.

"Yes Mom?" she replied.

"You understand that all this has to be kept private, yes?"

That startled Courtney. She hadn't exactly dwelled on that, no. Then again she'd just, in a way, instinctively accepted that. After all, the hidden room was supposed to be private and secret, so it just seemed natural that everything else was, too. Her precocious, sharp mind, however, sensed there was more to this then just that, so with a curious tilt of her head she paid close attention to her Mom.

"This isn't something we can ever talk about with to others," Samantha explained, her words coming slow. Almost hesitant, as she was struggling to compose her thoughts. Courtney slowly nodded, not just simply accepting the rule but even somewhat grasping the reasons. "Because slavery was abo . . . abol . . .," she struggled with the word.

"Abolished," Samantha finished for her. "Well, yes. That's part of it. Most people simply don't understand that sort of thing. They picture that like the Civil War and the Roman Age. And don't understand that some people - like your Mom and her friends - enjoy it. It's something we willingly do."

Courtney nodded, paying close attention. Then piped up, "Twerp likes it too, yes? So that makes it OK. But she didn't agree first, so that's why people wouldn't like it?"

Samantha shouldn't have been startled. After all, she'd had years to get used to her daughter's cunning, clever sharp intellect. Nodding she answered, "Yes. That's it. Most wouldn't understand, or accept, this being an appropriate sort of punishment, a way of correcting Twerp back into proper behavior."

"That's not all, though, is it?" Courtney asked, stunning Samantha all over again.

Samantha took several sips of her cooling coffee, mentally debating how to answer. The question of not answering never entering the equation. "That's most of it," she clarified. "But, not all of it, no. There are other things to consider, too. Things which don't have to be part of this, but could be."

Now that intrigued Courtney, quite curious now as well as puzzled. "What sort of things?" she piped up.

"Remember this morning's lesson? When I talked about desire and arousal?" Courtney nodded, a wide smile on her face. Oh yes! She certainly did remember!! "Uh-huh!!"

"And remember my explaining that sensual doesn't have to be sexual, or lead to that?" Again Courtney nodded, avidly listening. That lesson hadn't been work at all!

"Well, it doesn't have to be. But . . . it can. And sexual things could be part of her training. And your playing with her," Samantha, once starting, forged on. "Sexual doesn't just mean like a man and a woman having intercourse. It can mean lots of other things, too."

"It can?" Courtney chirped, very curious.

Nodding Samantha continued. "Yes. It can. And I have a sneaky idea that Twerp knows that, too. Or, at least, has a very good idea that it can." Considering she'd had an entire week down there to explore, Samantha was virtually positive the child had gotten both an eyeful and an education of sorts.

"Then she must be OK with that," Courtney figured. "Otherwise she wouldn't have kept sneaking down there to play."

Samantha blinked, startled at that. What an . . . interesting, intriguing notion that was.

"How do you feel about that, though, sweetheart?" Samantha asked, gazing at her daughter over the rim of her mug as she sipped her coffee. "About sexual things being part of training and having fun with your slave?"

"Uhhhh . . . " now Courtney looked startled, not having looked at it from that angle. Her initial, instinctive response was abrupt instant refusal, having been taught and trained that 'sex' was a bad thing. But nothing that she'd done, or had done, to Twerp struck her as being bad. Her clever mind rapidly whirred and thought. "What do you mean by 'sexual things' Mom?" she finally asked, admitting to herself that she wasn't at all clear what that meant.

A momentary pause, then Samantha answered, "Things like petting your slave's pussy. Rubbing her and making her aroused and wet. Using things on and in her to make her aroused and wanting."

"Ooooooh!" Courtney exclaimed in delight. "You mean doing stuff that makes her squirm!?"

Samantha almost sprayed her mouthful of coffee at that. Nodding as she swallowed, then answering, "Yes sweetheart. That's a good way of putting it, yes."

"Goodie!" she exclaimed in delight, clapping tiny hands together in glee. "I like making Twerp squirm! That's so awesomely kewl!"

Samantha did have to laugh at that, not knowing whether to feel sorry for Twerp or not. Courtney grinned back, enchanted and delighted at the idea. "I just haven't made up my mind to include that or not," she told her.

"Why not?" Courtney asked, puzzled.

"Because I don't know if that's the right thing to do or not," she admitted.

"Well," Courtney thoughtfully said, "If Twerp likes it, and I don't mind, and it's a private thing, I don't see what the big deal is then Mom. I know Twerp's just my slave and it really doesn't matter if she wants or likes something or not. But that's way different. I wouldn't want to make her do stuff like that if she'd rather die or something if it happened. But she likes squirming. And I like making her squirm. And I don't see it being anybody's business but us."

It really came down to being that simple to Courtney. Twerp wasn't being harmed. She liked and wanted this kinda stuff. Her body certainly said so, even if she acted like she didn't. She had to, after all, cuz otherwise she'd never have kept exploring and playing down there. And Courtney liked and wanted what she was doing. That's all that really mattered to her. Well, that, and that Mom was OK with it, too. What anyone else might think was no big deal at all, because no one else was ever gonna find out.

Specially about the sexual stuff, if Mom decided yes on that. Courtney understood, without asking, that everyone else would say that was a big, huge, giganormous 'no-no'. Which didn't make any sense at all to her. Why was something so fun so bad? Sheesh! Grown-ups!

"Well, that's still something for the future," Samantha determined, moving back onto firmer ground. "Not that we don't have a lot we can already do, and will be doing shortly."

"Like what?" Courtney asked.

Well, for one, I'll be needing to measure Twerp," she told her daughter.

"Measure her? For what?" Courtney curiously piped up.

"For things like cuffs that properly fit her, especially if you intend to do any more suspension with her like this morning," Samantha matter of factly replied, startling Courtney. "Also adjusting gags so that they properly fit her. Plus finding, making or adjusting other types of restraints, like single sleeve gloves, chastity harnesses and the like. Don't worry," she assured Courtney, who looked stunned and obviously hadn't a clue what any of that last stuff meant, "I'll show you what all of that is later tonight, or tomorrow at the latest."

"OK Mom," Courtney nodded, content that Mom would explain it to her.

"Then there is establishing a starting routine for her," she continued.

"Starting routine?" Courtney repeated, looking blank.

"Yes sweetheart. For instance, I think it would be a good idea to have her do stretches, calisthenics and exercises in the mornings. To improve her flexibility - so you can do more with her - and keep your slave physically fit and healthy. Also, it will be easier to keep her tied up for longer periods of time the better shape she's in."

Courtney nodded as she listened. "For example, let's say you wake her at 6:30 in the morning, have her work out from then until 7:30, then half an hour for washing up and grooming. You can either have her do that herself, or you can wash and groom her. Then breakfast - or not; your decision - then an hour of slave practice. Then secure her how you wish until lunch - again, your choice to feed her or not - then another hour of slave practice and lessons. Then secured until dinner - if you choose to feed her . . . Understand?"

"I . . . I think so, yes," Courtney hesitantly replied. "Sure seems like she'll be tied up a lot though."

Samantha nodded. "In the beginning, yes. When she isn't actively being trained, she'll basically be 'stored'. Twerp needs to learn, and absolutely understand and accept, that this isn't a game. That being able to relax, rest, play, even move about, aren't rights that belong to her. They are privileges. And ones that only her Mistress - you - can grant to her. More importantly, she needs to start learning what else is important."

"What's that?" Courtney piped up, curiously gazing at her Mom, quite intrigued.

Very seriously Samantha replied, "The most important obligation of a slave is to please, and be pleasing, to her Mistress. In every way she can. Rewards, kindness, privileges, all those are things that a slave may enjoy, but nothing else should be more important to her then to please and be pleasing."

Courtney's little jaw dropped at that. Twerp!? Want nothing more then to please and be pleasing to Courtney!? That was crazy! Ludicrous and laughable!

But Mom didn't look at all like she thought the idea was funny.

"I fully intend to have Twerp trained and have her upstairs. To work, do chores. Clean, dust, vacuum, things like that. Under your supervision and direction, of course."

"Uuuhhh . . . of course," Courtney blankly muttered, stunned.

"And after we get all that accomplished today," Samantha said with a smile, "I thought you might like to have Twerp strapped down so we can finish our anatomy lesson, and so you can play with your slave some more."

"Oh my!" Courtney's dusky eyes abruptly sparkled and gleamed. She rubbed tiny hands together in gleeful anticipation.

"Now, this is what I had in mind, for when we go downstairs. First off . . ."

The delicate chime of the cuff rings and padlocks were swallowed up in the room as Sasha gently shifted. Her tummy pleasantly full and feeling replete, she lay partially on her side, huge eyes softly closed. Sometimes after an exhausting morning playing there was nothing she liked doing better after a yummy tummy-filling lunch then just bonelessly collapse, sprawl and not move a muscle.

Well, lunch had certainly been scrumptious. And her tummy was certainly nicely full. And her morning had, most definitely, been very strenuous.

However, it decidedly hadn't been from playing.

Nor, for that matter, had she chosen her current immobile position.

There wasn't anything else to do but lay there motionless. Unless you considered the twisting of one's hands back and forth in locked-together leather cuffs, or the shifting of one's legs the limit the locked-together ankle cuffs permitted, as 'moving'. Which Sasha assuredly didn't.

Well, to be more accurate, there wasn't anything else to do then just lay there motionless . . . and think.

And Sasha had a whole lot of things to think about, too. More now, after lunch, then she'd had before.

She still didn't like this. Not at all. Didn't want it happening. Didn't think it was fair. Didn't think it was right. Didn't think she deserved any of this stuff happening to her. Regrettably, she seemed to be the only one that thought that way. Even more unfortunately, her's was the only opinion that didn't count for squat.

Sasha hadn't a clue what really to expect. Oh, she had ideas. Tons of them, in fact. There was nothing at all wrong with her imagination. That had, after all, played no small part in her suffering this mischief; her dwelling on the pictures, images and daydreams all those illusionary visions her mind had created and conjectured. But it was starting to become dreadfully obvious that her Aunt had more in store for her then just play-pretend games.

The really surprising thing about all of this was her little baby cousin, Courtney. All things considered, other then her one temper tantrum earlier, when she'd kicked Sasha's ankles wide apart and left her hanging by her wrists, Courtney had been rather nice to Sasha. More then just 'nice', in fact. Coddled in a weird, petted, pampered fashion.

Unlike how her Aunt had been treating her.

Very coldly and sternly. Unforgiving and harsh. She shuddered to think how things would have turned out so far if she'd been exclusively left to the 'tender mercies' of her Aunt. Sasha wasn't, exactly, afraid of Aunt Samantha. Just extremely wary and fearful about what she might do.

Given the choice - not that she had been - Sasha felt maybe she'd been fortunate in their decision about which of those two got to be in charge over her. She much rather have the bossy twerp pretending to be important and ordering her around then her Aunt, who was doing an excellent imitation of a Brothers Grimm wicked witch of a stepmom.

Sasha wriggled a little, shifting about in the cage. Although she couldn't see the door, as it was directly behind her and she couldn't quite move her head far enough to see it, Sasha was very aware of it back there. Very aware that, at some point, one or both of them would be returning for her.

For their slave.

How did Courtney put it, before she left? Oh, yes. "Lessons'll start in half an hour," she'd said. "I'll be back for my slave then. Rest until I return."

That sounded ominous, no matter how she looked at it. On the one hand, she hoped 'lessons' didn't mean the same as in 'teaching her a lesson'. Although she'd never admit it to anyone, everything that had happened so far had done just that. And she really didn't want additional 'examples'. On the other hand, 'lessons' might very well mean 'instructions'. Training. Coaching. Schooling.

Indoctrination.

A light tremor rippled through her little, cuffed, naked body at that. As did a gentle warm tingle. Sasha kept trying to shy away from that thought but, considering her current circumstance, found that impossible to do. Did they truly mean, no joking, to keep her like this all summer? For the remaining, entire, long ten weeks? Keep her as a slave? Train her as that?

Chrome-plated rings gently chimed as Sasha shifted yet again. If they really did mean that, Sasha so far hadn't figured out a way of preventing them from doing so. Hadn't thought of an escape plan.

No, she finally decided. She didn't need any old escape plan, because Aunt Samantha couldn't have been serious. Keeping her like this for the whole summer would be going wayyyy too overboard. Grounding her for a week would be more fitting. That must be it. She meant to ground Sasha in this extreme way for just a week, thinking that Sasha would be so grateful at being 'reprieved' that she'd turn into a goody two-shoes like her twerp of a cousin. Well, Sasha wasn't a baby, she wasn't going to be fooled, no way! She'd show them, later!

Especially Courtney!

Still, that didn't mean this week was gonna be easy, either. Small fingers lightly rubbed a pert, firm, gently-rounded bottom, remembering being paddled earlier. Other then the memory of the twin paddlings from this morning she really couldn't feel any lingering aftereffects. Unlike, she knew, what she'd be feeling had either her Mom or Aunt been the one wielding that instrument of doom. Not that Courtney had been a lightweight with it. Sasha's face grew warm, replaying in her mind both times Courtney had paddled her. In their own way, each had vividly stood out.

That first time, Sasha had been shocked, indignant and affronted that Courtney would actually dare to paddle her. Just as bad was having that little twerp believe Sasha could be made to say her name was Twerp! She still remembered the humiliation of being made to say that. But she also remembered the frisson of fear that had surged through her at the realization and appalled understanding that the paddling wasn't going to stop until she did! That she'd been helpless to stop that.

But . . . that hadn't been all she'd felt. Nor, for that matter, had things been much different for the second paddling. Again Sasha had felt a thrill of alarm and dread when Courtney had announced another punishment. When she'd simply picked up that paddle again and moved to stand behind Sasha. There hadn't been a single thing she could do to stop what Courtney intended. Nor, since she'd been gagged, could she plead and appeal. And again Sasha had felt racing, jolting tingles surging all through her, even through the distress of the whacks.

In fact, it seemed like they always went together. Hand in hand. Embarrassment . . . and tingles. Helplessness . . . and tingles. Humiliation. . . and tingles. Spankings. . . and tingles.

Being touched. . . and tingles. Major tingles. Big-time ones!!

Even just thinking about those touches made Sasha start tingling again. Well, tingling more, to be more accurate, as she'd never really stopped tingling.

A light, gentle flood of crimson colored Sasha's face, flowed down her throat and chest. She hadn't wanted to be touched. Not at those places. And not like she'd been. Helplessly restrained, held so wide open. So exposed and displayed. Even worse, the way they'd been talking about her as if she hadn't been right there, right in front of them. Yet, even that - being talked about, rather then to; being treated as an object - had made those heated tingles feel stronger.

They hadn't even had to touch her at times to make her tingle. The times Courtney had just looked at her with huge, wide awed eyes had sent gentle waves through Sasha. As did the times she'd softly yet sincerely praised her. As did the sheer joy she exuded seeing Sasha squirming as she tingled.

Huh.

She'd been furious at first when Aunt Samantha had informed her that the little twerp was now in control of Sasha. Her 'Mistress', in fact. Sasha gave a little snort at that memory. She was sure her Aunt had said that as a way of paying Sasha back for the supposed bad treatment of the little squirt jerk. Well, that was fine by her. Courtney was more easily manipulated, it shouldn't be all that hard to have her feel like she was the boss yet get her to soften up even more then she had.

She was conveniently 'forgetting' several incidents as she deliberated and thought. Incidents where it had been made very clear to her this wasn't a joke and that Courtney was, without a doubt, in charge. Sasha needed to believe she'd misread those times, because the alternative was just too awful to contemplate.

Her mind drifted back, once again, to those touches, and to the sensations they created. Once she'd gotten over the shock and sheer humiliation of Courtney touching her co . . . pussy, once her body just took off on it's own, that had felt exquisitely wonderful. Much like banister rubbing and pressing, but even better. Sasha had never rubbed herself before, not like that, and wondered if it would feel just as nice if she did that herself. Especially since those tingles were still gently thrumming in her.

Rings and little padlocks jingled and chimed as she shifted and squirmed. Drat it! There was no way, no way at all! she could move her arms or hands enough to even begin reaching her own self! Muttering in frustration she squirmed more, moving back onto her tummy from where she'd been laying partially on her side.

She tried pressing down onto the blanket below, seeking . . . seeking pressure. Sensation. So close! Sooo close!! Soft little grunts were swallowed in the room as she tipped, tilted, angled her sleek little hips, striving for pressure. Lithe slender legs started unconsciously pressing together, a rhythmic compression back and forth. She couldn't even get the same pressure as she did banister rubbing but, for some reason it started feeling nice anyway.

It didn't occur to Sasha that, perhaps, the fact that she was helplessly bound, naked, collared and caged whetted and enhanced the little pressure she did manage to achieve.

Nor did it occur to her that quite some time had already passed since her lunch.

The thick door swung silently open on well-oiled hinges, making not even the tiniest squeak. Even if it had, the room would have absorbed that sound like the ocean swallowing a tiny raindrop. Sasha had no idea that her two jailers had reentered, and continued her rhythmic pressing down upon the blanket. And Samantha and Courtney had had no idea to expect what they now saw: Twerp's firm, muscled rump clenching, flexing and relaxing as she humped up and down.

Courtney gazed up at her Mom, unsure of how to proceed from here. Samantha warmly smiled down, her expression a 'unexpected things happen; we'll just wing it' look. "So, have you decided yet whether to go for strength and stamina, or flexibility and endurance?" Both pretended to ignore Twerp's sudden tensed freezing as she heard them behind her.

"Flexibility and endurance," Courtney replied. "I'm going to be tying her to some of those things, and she'll need to be able to easily bend and remain that way for hours."

Samantha nodded as they both stood at opposite sides of the slave's cage, just nattering away. Seeming, somehow, to overlook the naked cuffed slave in front of them. "Very well then," Samantha noted. "Not too difficult to do. It'll be very much like your gymnastics exercises and routines, just more intense." Then, in a seeming change of subject, "Have you also decided what to do about your slave's appearance?"

"I think so, yes," Courtney thoughtfully replied. "I'll talk to you about that, a bit later. After the appraisal and instructions."

Flexibility and endurance? Sasha frantically thought. Tying her to some things? For hours!? Appearance? Appraisal and instructions??

"Very well then," Samantha nodded. "There's really no need to rush things over your slave's appearance anyway. That's your own personal choice to make."

As badly as Sasha had wanted out of this cage, now seemed to be the absolute worst time for that, horribly aware of a slickness at her pussy from those tingles and futile pressings. Nor, for that matter, was listening to them talk away very comforting.

"Let's get started then," Courtney said and, even through her dismay Sasha couldn't mistake the way her little cousin was talking to her Mom. As if she was the one in charge!

Taking the keyring Courtney sorted through the keys there. Finding the cage one she opened the padlock holding it shut. "Take my slave out, please," she said to her Mom, and it was a polite request for help rather then it being a child asking her Mom for something. Samantha nodded, drew the hasp back then folded the top section back. Reaching in she easily lifted Twerp up and out, carefully setting her little bare feet on the ground, aware that her small ankles were still cuffed together. Twerp hotly blushed, well aware that she couldn't hide any sign of her being juic . . . wet if they happened to look down.

Then breathed a silent sigh of relief as they seemed to, somehow, miss seeing that.

Her relief, alas, was short-lived. They spoke some more to each other, again seeming to ignore the slave now standing there right before them. Then Courtney glanced down into the cage. "I think Twerp likes being caged after all. If the sheet means anything. It'll need changing before I put her away for the night."

Had there been a Divinity listening to Sasha at that moment the ground would have swallowed her right up. Little toes wriggled and clenched as she furiously blushed.

It got worse moments later when Courtney crouched in front of her to unlock the ankle cuffs from each other. For Courtney directly stared right at her pussy and repeated, "Yup. I think my slave likes being caged up. A lot."

Pocketing the lock she stood up, then clipped the leash to Twerp's collar. "Follow, slave," she said, then turned and walked off, leading Twerp behind her as she left the room with her Mom.

Her face a brilliant scarlet Sasha followed. There really wasn't anything else she could do, after all, but follow.

No sooner did they exit the cage room then they made an immediate left, following the wall up to the next door. This one wasn't as thick as some of the other doors. And, like most of the rooms down here, Sasha had explored inside. As best as she could, as there'd been some doors that were locked. Samantha opened the door and all three walked inside. Although it might be more accurate to say two walked inside and one was led.

Sasha wasn't concerned about this room, as she knew what was inside. Well, for the most part knew, as there was a door in here that was locked. Just past the door was what she called the locker area. Because it contained nothing but lockers. Along the left wall were a series of tall, slender ones like at school, and small square ones like in gym. While along the right wall was a single large rectangular one, more a cabinet then a locker. That one had been locked, so Sasha had no idea what, if anything, was inside. But the others had not been, and they'd been boringly empty. There were also two doors inside. One, straight ahead, which was locked by a keypad much like the one in the outer hidden panel, and another to the left, in the middle of the lockers.

Samantha used a key to unlock the large cabinet and Sasha, almost against her will, peeped curiously over to see what was inside as her Aunt rolled back the sliding doors. It wasn't at all what she was half-expecting and half-fearing. Instead of more tie up stuff, the entire cabinet contained bathing and grooming stuff!

Soaps, both bar and liquid. Bath oils, salts and beads. Shampoos and conditioners. Oils and lotions. Washcloths and towels. Scrubbies, loofas, bath brushes and bath gloves. And lots more things, too. It looked like an Avon party gone wild.

Samantha held up a clipboard, which somehow Sasha had missed seeing before. "Have you decided yet?" she asked Courtney, who nodded. "Just the basic minimum," she told her Mom. "No more."

Samantha nodded, then stepped over to the locker side. Sasha's little jaw dropped a little as she inserted three neatly printed labels into the name slots of three lockers; one of the tall ones and two of the smaller ones. Her face flamed as she read the lettering: Twerp.

Nothing was put into the tall locker. Into the top small one went a bar of plain soap, a bottle of generic shampoo, a toothbrush and a tube of generic toothpaste. Samantha then added a pair of small nail clippers, an emery board, and a plain brush and comb. In the bottom one went a plain white towel and washcloth. Her eyes jerked to Courtney as her leash was simply tugged to get her attention. "Those are for you to use Twerp," Courtney explained. "For bathing and grooming."

Sasha looked aggrieved and upset. That was it? she thought. They had to be kidding!

One of the things that had surprised Courtney when Sasha first arrived was the sheer amount of things her cousin had brought along. Heck, one whole bag held nothing but soaps, shampoos, conditioners, gels, mousse, brushes, combs, nail polish and a ton of other stuff. Including make-up, which Courtney wasn't allowed to use. And Sasha had spared no effort at rubbing that fact into Courtney's face.

If either of them noticed Sasha's indignant shock they didn't comment on it. Courtney just continued her explanation. "You're responsible for them. Break, ruin or lose anything, and you'll be punished. Don't put them away after using them and you'll be punished. Don't clean up after yourself and you'll be punished. Understand?"

Sasha sullenly nodded, furious and steaming inside.

Once the slave's lockers were stocked she was led through the left door and into the room there. Inside wasn't anything noticeably strange. Just two toilets, out in the open. And three showers. Again, out in the open, with only a shower head and glazed pebbled floor with drains. A small, plain, unadorned vanity-style chair and mirrored counter.

Very sparse and Spartan.

Spotting the toilet reminded Sasha that her bladder was starting to feel uncomfortably full. But, if she wasn't allowed to talk, how was she going to tell them she needed to pee? She hadn't figured that out yet before Courtney gently tugged the leash again. "Follow," was all she said, and Sasha padded along after her.

She figured they were taking her back outside to the main room, and was startled when they stopped in the locker room, over by the locked door. Courtney, not Samantha, typed in the code, then opened the door and led Sasha inside.

Sasha's huge eyes grew wide and round at what she saw. This, too, was a bathroom. But it was like comparing a hovel to a mansion.

The floor was gleaming tile. Soft, warm colors in pleasing geometric patterns. Several soft rugs in various places. There were two tubs: one a big, sunken one, the other a Jacuzzi whirlpool one. Two showers, too. One of them was a corner shower, with a curved frosted glass sliding door, and the other stood by itself, fully circular. That one had body misting jets at four corners, in addition to an overhead shower head and a pulsating massaging one with a removable handle. There was also a small sauna, too. Plus very fancy vanities. It looked like something, Sasha thought numbly, out of a billionaire's mansion home or something.

"Should a slave start being pleasing and obedient," Courtney said, making Sasha jump, startled out of looking all around, "she can earn more and more choices and selections of things to wash and groom with. She can even earn the use of this room, too."

Sasha looked around with wide-eyed wonder. The hedonist in her was imagining the sybaritic delight one could enjoy in here, and she wished she could just luxuriate using all this stuff already. They gave her a minute or two to look all around before leading her back out again, this time all the way out into the main room. They stopped by a small table, and Sasha abruptly dug in her heels at what she saw there.

She didn't know what it was, but she had a funny sinking feeling nonetheless. From what she could see it appeared to be a tangled mass of black leather straps. And most likely they intended it for her.

She was right, too, as Courtney just picked it up and walked over to stand in front of her. "Hold still," she softly scolded as Sasha softly whimpered, seeing Courtney lifting it up to her head. She would have taken a step back, but sensed her Aunt standing right behind her. So, other then starting to tremble she held still, although her eyes looked like wide saucers as Courtney carefully placed the bundle atop her head.

Aunt Samantha was right behind her, for she helped Courtney properly place the leather straps. It was, Sasha mentally whimpered to discover, yet another gag. But she hadn't said anything, hadn't made even a peep!

"Open," Courtney softly commanded, giving Sasha no choice. She looked pleadingly at her cousin but saw no give there. So, reluctantly and nervously she opened her mouth, expecting it to be filled once again.

Except . . . it didn't fill her mouth. It didn't even, precisely, go inside. Rather, a semi-flexible rod of black rubber went sideways, past and between her teeth. At each end were round shiny rings to which leather straps were fastened, and those straps went behind her head, buckled snug. It could have been pulled tighter, she sensed but, as it was, it wasn't even pulling at the corners of her mouth. Not really.

There was more leather then that though, and she shortly found out why. Two more pieces were also attached to those rings, their other ends attached together with another, much smaller ring, making a sort of triangle. That was lifted up, so that the ring rested just above her forehead, and a third strap connected to that joining ring continuing over her head, buckled and fastened to the mouth strap behind her neck. Yet another pair of straps were connected to the rod rings, with those going under her little chin before being snugly buckled. Then Courtney secured all three buckles with little brass padlocks.

Sasha wanted to struggle and fight at being gagged again. To at least protest. Instead she did nothing, just meekly stood there, too uncertain to do anything but let herself be gagged. All of this was still too new, too outre, for her to know where the limits and lines were. To know where she could push. Could bend and manipulate. And where she had to toe the line. Without knowing the parameters, without any experience of the situation, she didn't know, exactly, where things stood and so felt lost and very unsure. Nothing at all about what was happening was familiar in the least.

That rod thing might not be pulled deep in her mouth, true. But, with the head and chin straps pulled snug, that forced her to bite down somewhat onto that thing, and she couldn't open her mouth once they were buckled. It wasn't really uncomfortable, just rather daunting and alarming in appearance.

It also didn't make any sense to Sasha either. Although she hadn't tried to talk, it didn't seem as if it would do much to keep her quiet. Not like the ball and tape, or that penis gag, had done. And, unlike those two kinds, she could easily swallow and breathe. So what was the point of this? And why had they done it to her?

What had Courtney told her before leaving her last time? Oh, yes.

'You'll be gagged lots anyway. Both to help train you to remain silent, help you remember that. And because I just like seeing you gagged. I don't need any reason to gag my slave - or do anything else, either - other then I just wanna do something.'

Was that it? To remind her to keep quiet? Or because Courtney had just wanted to gag Sasha? Either way it didn't matter, in that the deed itself had been done. But Sasha really did want to know why, too.

In any event, considering this was much more comfortable - in a relative sense - then the other two gags had been, she wasn't about to go looking a gift horse in the mouth.

Had Sasha been as horse crazy as her little cousin was, she would have known just how ironic thinking that was. Courtney had no sooner seen it then recognized it for what it was: a rubber snaffle bit, identical to those used on ponies. Samantha had pointed it out to her, explaining that a gag like that - called a head harness trainer gag - was perfect to use as a 'reminder' for her slave to keep silent, as well as getting her used to being gagged for longer periods of time. Courtney immediately jumped on the idea, choosing it that moment.

She thought Twerp looked pretty cool gagged with it, too. It was fun watching her nervously lip the rubber snaffle, to see her gleaming white teeth gripping it. And it was awesome seeing all that shiny black leather all strapped around her head, too!

Once finished gagging her slave Courtney took the leash up again. Another gentle tug, another "Follow" and she padded along with her Mom, again walking clockwise along the wall until they reached the next door.

Again there were no real surprises here for Sasha, as she'd explored this room, too. Another rather boring room, in that it didn't have anything exciting like the main room and some of the other side ones had. Inside this one were actually three rooms in one: an exercise area, a kitchen and a laundry room.

Sasha didn't know why they were taking her inside. It's not like she needed the grand tour or anything, after all. Hadn't her illicit explorations been what had gotten her into deep doo-doo to start with?

She soon found out why they were here, as they stopped by a medical-style scale. Samantha readied her notebook as Courtney had Twerp stand on the scale and weighed her. Samantha wrote down the weight and then the height as Courtney measured that, too. Leading her down from the scale she walked Twerp over by one wall, then let the leash dangle. "You're going to be measured now Twerp. You're to hold still and move only when told to. Understand?"

Measured? she thought. Measured for what? She nodded even as her mind furiously thought, trying to figure out what in the world she needed to be measured for. Courtney took a dressmaker's tape measure from her Mom, then crouched, unlocking and removing the ankle cuffs. Sasha held her breath, trying not to wiggle. This was the first time they'd been off her since she'd put them on herself that morning. The tiny fingers and the caress of the soft, flexible tape as it circled her small ankle felt tickly, and Sasha tensed so she wouldn't accidentally move.

"Left ankle: seven and a half inches," Courtney reported, and Samantha dutifully jotted the size down. Courtney then measured the right one, calling out the size before replacing the cuffs, buckling them as snug as before then relocking them once again. The measuring continued. Below and above both knees. Midthigh. The length from her hip to both knee and ankle. Around her waist. Between her legs, which had Sasha brightly blush again as the tape was snugged right against her pussy and literally between her butt cheeks. Around her tummy, below and above her breasts. Her throat.

It hadn't taken a great deal of time for all that so far. But, ever since she'd been lifted out of the cage her bladder had slowly but surely been growing more persistent and urgent in its demands. Sasha's little toes had begun clenching as she struggled to ignore that increasingly insistent call, and she started gently shifting her weight back and forth on her small feet, weaving in place. Courtney finally looked at her with a scowl, about to scold her when she suddenly understood.

She had to struggle not to grin, seeing Twerp unconsciously doing the 'gotta pee-pee' dance like a real little girl. Instead she simply walked over to her Mom, handing her the tape measure and answering the silent, lifted-brow question. "I think my slave needs to pee, if her dancing means anything."

They both heard Twerp's soft moan of mortification at that, and both of them pretended to ignore it. Although Samantha's lips twitched as she struggled not to grin. Courtney didn't have to struggle; with her back to Twerp she was free to grin from ear to ear.

Once she had herself under control she turned and walked back to her slave, looking her right in the eye and asking, "Does my slave need to pee?"

Feeling about an inch tall Sasha nevertheless rapidly shook her head in tiny, rapid jerks, her need to pee outweighing, for now, the intense embarrassment of the situation. Courtney simply took the leash again, giving it a gentle tug. "Follow."

There wasn't any hesitation this time. Sasha immediately followed right after, biting down on the rubber bit between her teeth as she struggled harder and harder to keep it held in.

Samantha watched as the two walked off, and that image was one of the most powerfully provocative and erotic she'd ever seen. There was Courtney, her little daughter, dressed in a very suggestive, sexy black leather skirt and top, with matching black leather boots flashing as she padded along, leading at the end of a chain leash a totally naked, collared, cuffed and gagged young girl, whose bare rump jiggled and flexed with each step she took.

Thankfully the bathrooms were only the next door back, so it wasn't long at all before they were standing in front of a toilet. Sasha turned her back to Courtney, wiggling her hands which were still cuffed and locked together behind her back.

"I thought a slave needed to pee," Courtney merely said. "If I was wrong, we can leave."

Sasha spun around, staring wide-eyed at Courtney. How was she supposed to go to the bathroom with her hands locked behind her back!?

Then she visibly swallowed. Hard. Especially seeing the inflexible gaze of her little cousin. Adamant and uncompromising, with a touch of expectant anticipation. Courtney wasn't going to undo her hands! She was going to make her go with them locked behind her back, and watch her while she did!

"Sit," Courtney finally commanded, and Twerp heard it as the order it was. She couldn't do this, she just couldn't! It was way too embarrassing!

Embarrassing it might be, and no way Courtney could mistake that. Not with Twerp looking like a fire alarm all the way down to her chest. But her nipples had abruptly tightened again, growing taut and erect, and that was all Courtney really needed to see. "Sit!" she repeated, in a much firmer, no-nonsense voice.

Sasha might still have tried appealing this, but her bladder wasn't having anything to do with any more delays. Carefully sitting down, face flaming and eyes staring at her toes, within moments came the low hiss of a steady jet of liquid. Sasha blushed even harder, unable to choke back a low whimper of humiliation. Courtney didn't say a word, just stood there, right in front of her, waiting . . . and watching.

Courtney felt a little thrill of excited naughtiness race through her, one of power and control, too, as she watched her slave pee right in front of her. Again, much like having seen Twerp naked before when they'd showered together, she'd been in the bathroom before with her cousin when she'd peed. And she'd peed with Sasha there, and never had either of them paid it any real notice before. But . . . this was different. Way different!

She wasn't sure exactly why that was so, but she didn't spend all that much time worrying about it either. It was good enough to just know that it was. And to know how that made her feel, and seeing and knowing how it made Twerp feel, too!

It was obvious Twerp wanted to keep her legs closed together, to hide best as she could what she was doing. It was just as obvious she didn't dare do that, unless she wanted to soak herself. Courtney had never really paid close attention to watching another girl peeing before. This time she indulged her curiosity, staring quite closely and avidly as Twerp emptied her bladder right before her eyes. She didn't miss a thing, including the fact that, no matter how humiliated she looked, her little toes kept clenching and flexing, and her nipples remained tiny hard points. And Courtney knew what that meant!

Courtney could see Twerp visibly relax as she emptied. That sort of 'relax' one got when you really, really, really badly needed to pee and finally could. Finally, after a suitable length of time she asked, "Finished?"

Twerp mutely nodded, still staring down at her toes. She needed to wipe now, and with her hands cuffed behind her couldn't, and had a very dreadful idea what to expect next.

She was right, too, as Courtney unrolled some paper and tore it off, folding it in half, then half again before stepping over right in front of her slave. "Open wide," she told her.

She didn't have any choice. She might hate doing this, but she didn't have any choice about doing it. Parting her slender little legs a bit, she braced for the taunts and jeering teases she knew was going to happen.

With utter exquisite gentleness Courtney blotted her dry, a rather entranced, enchanted expression on her face and in her eyes. Sasha felt an odd tingly shiver at that look. Courtney then gazed up and softly said, "You're dry now." Then a little, somewhat sheepish, wry grin spread across her face. "Well, for now, anyway."

Sasha found herself utterly surprised by responding with an identical grin. Both of them softly giggled, for a moment sharing the camaraderie they had once enjoyed together. But then the wall of Sasha's defensiveness thrust back up, she slipped behind her bastion of safety. Ducking her head, she turned her eyes away from her little cousin.

Courtney wasn't hurt at that. Far from it. For she'd gotten a glimpse of the 'sister' she loved and sorely missed with all her little loving heart and soul. She wasn't dead and buried. Just hidden away, was all. And Courtney grimly vowed to do whatever it took to find and rescue her.

"Stand," she finally said and, once Twerp had, she simply dropped the wadded paper into the bowl, pressed the handle to flush then tugged the leash. "Follow."

Shortly thereafter they were once again back in the exercise room, picking up with the measurements where they'd left off. Courtney had Twerp turn around so that her back was to her, then unlocked the wrist cuffs from each other. No sooner did the little slave feel Courtney do that then she stiffened in shocked indignation. "Why hhnt uuhh uu hhahht so I cuhh pee!?" she blurted, furious. If Courtney was gonna unlock the cuffs from each other, why the heck did she make her pee with them locked! That was just being plain mean!

Then she jumped, squealing as a tiny hand sharply swatted one bare cheek. Turning around she fiercely glared at Courtney, furious at both the swat and the fact that Courtney hadn't unlocked her wrists, permitting her to use the bathroom unaided. With both her ankles and wrists now free she wasn't feeling quite as helpless, and her anger was overriding discretion.

Courtney just glared right back, looking quite irritated herself. These last two weeks, if Sasha had looked at her like she was doing right now Courtney would have meekly capitulated, feeling overpowered by Sasha's age, size and strength. And, in fact, she felt a momentary quiver of trepidation face to face with her with her looking so irate.

Sasha saw that flicker cross her face, and a flicker was all it was, vanishing almost as soon as it appeared. "What are you gonna do Twerp?" Courtney softly said, the tone oh-so-silky yet menacing. "Hit me? Do you really want to do that? Gonna run? Where?" she asked. "You can't leave. You don't even know how to open the door. So you can't really get away. And I'm not gonna chase you if you do. I'll just wait. And the longer I hafta wait for you to come to me, the longer and harder your punishment's gonna be. I don't care if that takes days. You gotta eat, after all. So, one way or another you'll finally come to me, won't you?"

Twerp visibly gulped. Courtney's voice never rose about a soft murmur, but that didn't lesson their impact any. In fact, it only made them seem worse. She hated to admit it but Courtney was right. What could she do? She didn't have any way of leaving. She didn't have any leverage over them at all. She couldn't bargain or haggle, threaten or plead. They had all the cards and she had nothing in her hand.

Her fury drained away like a burst bubble. Her defiance died before it was truly born. Her creamy fair skin turned so pale that her tiny gold freckles looked like a dusting of pollen atop milk. She started trembling, literally quivering as she stood there, now frozen in place.

Samantha hadn't said a word so far. Hadn't moved, or even seem to visibly react. Courtney just stood there, iron in her expression, no give at all. Sasha didn't know what to do. She hadn't meant to talk, but she'd been so shocked and angry the words just popped out. And her pulling back and away, turning to glare at Courtney was just as reflexive. But that didn't negate, or even lessen, the fact that she had, and they'd both taken great pains to inform her that any and every disobedience would be punished. She didn't even dare to say she was sorry, because that would count as talking too!

There was only one thing she could think to do and, even though that felt like she was caving in, her desperate need to, somehow, try and mitigate what she'd already done overwhelmed that feeling. Tummy churning with anxiety and fear, feeling sick to her stomach, Sasha carefully moved, little legs wobbly and feeling like rubber. She turned back around to the position she'd been put in before, even putting her hands back behind her.

Neither Samantha nor Courtney missed seeing the look of fear on her face. Her ice-white complexion was starkly vivid. Nor did either of them miss seeing the war of emotions, the struggle to somehow make things better . . . even if it was just to - literally - save her ass. Nor did they miss noting her puffy, soft, pink nipples, not an iota of arousal there. She was well and truly scared, and not in a way that was exciting to her.

Sasha couldn't see them any more, not with her back to them. She couldn't tell if they were still coldly furious, or looking a bit forgiving. She couldn't stop trembling, and no matter how badly she needed to see what they looked like she didn't dare move a muscle. Anything she might do from this point on would only make things much worse for her.

When tiny fingers very softly stroked down her back she stiffened and flinched at the first touch then, feeling how gentle the caress was, how comforting and soothing, she couldn't keep a choked sob from bursting free.

Samantha just silently watched, quite dumbfounded and stunned. From the moment that Twerp rebelled she forced herself to remain just a bystander. A silent observer. This was Courtney's battle, and she needed to fight it on her own. To continue establishing her dominance and control over her slave. And, while she had had no idea how Courtney might try doing that, she positively wasn't ambiguous about the results, about how Courtney had handled the situation.

Perfectly.

Sasha could only watch in pure awe as Courtney took charge. Watch as Twerp jerked at her words, paled at the tone. Surrendered without ever a battle truly being fought.

Samantha had a lively respect for her daughter's intellect, but it rose to new heights after this. She'd been amazing! Perhaps it was time, past time, to start giving her more personal responsibility on her own. She might be only nine, true, but Samantha had never believed in using chronology as the sole basis for things. And if Courtney was showing signs of maturity, Samantha had the duty to reward and encourage that growth.

Courtney lightly stroked Twerp's back for a little bit. She was still angry with her, but she couldn't really fault her for the outburst. That was quite understandable, after all. Understandable, but not something she could overlook, ignore or just forgive. And Mom had warned her that, in the beginning, outbursts and acts of defiance could be expected.

Still, she was quite pleased that Twerp had, without being told to do so, turned back around just like she'd been before blowing up. Courtney was pretty sure that hadn't been easy for her to do, and wanted to show Twerp how proud she was of her for doing that. Which is why she was stroking her back. Saying, without words, how she felt. Besides, if disobedience was to be punished, shouldn't obedient initiative be rewarded? Mom hadn't said so - then again, Courtney was sure there were yet lots of lessons still waiting for her! - but she felt that was proper. A right thing to do.

She wasn't going to forget this. She couldn't; Twerp had been told, clearly enough, that any disobedience of any sort would be punished. So she'd have to be punished. But Mom hadn't said that punishments had to be immediate, and Courtney wanted to think about what would be a proper, instructive punishment. Besides, they still had a whole lot of stuff yet to do today.

Twerp never really settled back down, but she did relax a bit as Courtney caressed her back. Giving her a final little pet on the top of her head Courtney picked up where she left off, unlocking and removing the cuffs then measuring the small wrists. Samantha dutifully wrote down those measurements, then Courtney rebuckled and locked the cuffs back on again. She didn't lock them together yet, as she needed Twerp's arms to freely move. She measured above and below the elbows, then from the back of her neck down to her waist. Then from the front of her throat down to her waist. "Hold still," she softly cautioned, as Samantha came over at last.

Gently pressing Twerp's small arms together behind her back, Samantha gauged just how flexible she was. She was rather surprised to actually get the elbows to touch together, although she felt Twerp stiffen a bit and softly hiss just before they touched. Courtney measured around the pressed-together elbows, then Samantha released them before writing down the size when Courtney relayed it to her.

Sasha had no idea what all this was about but had her suspicions. She hoped her impressions were wrong because, if they weren't . . .

Somehow she didn't think Aunt Samantha was going to go to all the trouble of making special stuff just to fit her if this was only going to last a week to teach her a lesson.

Then again, a little wondering voice whispered inside her head, what might it be like to have some of the things she'd seen in here made to fit her, so she could experience that.

Her musings were cut short as they continued to the next stage of her 'lessons'. There was a compact but detailed personal gym there, as well as a treadmill and riding bike. Also a padded floor mat and, one by one, they walked her through an entire series of stretches and exercises. Routines to warm up before and to cool down after. Stretches to increase her limberness and flexibility. Exercises to increase her muscle tone and her endurance. Each one was patiently explained and shown, and each one was recorded in a log, specifying times, repetitions and other criteria. It took over an hour to walk Twerp through everything and, by the time they were finished she was bushed. Beat. Tired, sweaty and sore.

And she was required to do all of this every morning!

There was one other item in the exercise room, and Courtney lead Twerp over to it. She knew what it was, having seen it before, and wished she could have used it all this week. But it had been locked, which Sasha thought had been rude.

A tanning bed. And how Sasha had dreamed of lounging in there and getting a real, nice, golden-bronze tan!

Well, it seemed as if her dream was gonna be answered after all, just not in the way she'd expected. For the two of them started discussing just that very thing.

"Have you considered if you want your slave tanned or not?" Samantha asked her daughter.

Courtney nodded. "I've been thinking about that, yes. I think I do. She'll look good all tanned."

Samantha nodded. "Very well. Now, how do you want her tanned?" Sasha thought that was a very weird question, but her puzzlement was resolved moments later as her Aunt continued. "One piece, two piece, string, thong? Topless, bottomless or fully nude?"

Sasha's little jaw dropped. Wha . . .?

"That's the part I've been thinking over," Courtney admitted. "Not if I want her tanned, but how I want her to look."

Didn't she get any say in this? Sasha fretted. After all, it was her body they were talking about!

And then she jerked as if she'd been shot. They were talking about her like she was some sort of toy or doll. Like a possession. Something they could decorate as they pleased.

Like a slave, that inner voice whispered.

Sasha swallowed, looking back and forth between them. They didn't seem to notice, just kept talking.

"Well, there's no hurry, after all. You've all summer to decide. Now, have you thought about the rest?"

The rest? The rest!? Sasha mentally wailed. What 'rest' could there be? She found out moments later.

"Yes," Courtney answered, nodding. "Her nails. I want them cut shorter. Rounded half-moons. And no polish," she firmly emphasized.

Sasha jerked at that, small hands balling protectively up into little tight fists. They couldn't be serious! She liked her nails just the way they were! She took a lot of trouble taking care of them!

Indeed she did, they were perfectly manicured. French manicured at that, slightly squared tips with a band of white at the edge. Very grow-up looking. Very elegant. She was quite proud of their appearance, and had unmercifully teased Courtney about her 'little girl' nails. And now Courtney was going to make her cut them? No way!

Samantha just nodded, jotting that down. "I'm afraid we can't select other modifications, like tattoos, piercings or brand."

Courtney just shrugged, acting quite nonchalant. And it was an act, too. Mom had prepared her for this part. Twerp, however, alas for her, had no warning, and she literally quailed at that recitation.

"I know. Although she kept harping on wanting to have her bellybutton pierced. I suppose I could have that done."

Again Sasha swallowed. Yes, it was true she'd wanted that. But, it was one thing to want it, and quite another to have someone else decide to 'decorate' you as they pleased!

Samantha nodded, pen poised over the clipboard. "Is that a yes then?" Sasha looked beseechingly at Courtney, eyes wide and pleading. Courtney simply ignored her, looking as if she was thinking quite hard about that.

She finally shook her head. "No. Takes too long to heal, and I don't wanna hafta wait that long to play with her and make her squirm."

There was a sense of relief at that, but, considering the rest, also more then a bit of nervous apprehension. Then Sasha tensed again as her Aunt asked, "How about her hair? I think she'd look cute and adorable in a pageboy cut."

Now, while Sasha wasn't - yet - overweeningly conceited, she was rapidly heading that way. And she was quite proud and vain about her hair. Thick, silky and curly, a deep auburn color with burnished copper highlights, her tresses were her pride and joy, cascading down to just below her shoulder blades. She'd stopped wearing it in a ponytail last year, considering that too young a look for her. Now she wore it either in fairly complex, elegant French braids or, more usually, gelled and moussed within an inch of its life. And, once again, that had been something Sasha had relentlessly teased Courtney about, as she wore her much longer hair almost exclusively in a ponytail.

They . . . they just couldn't cut her hair into a pageboy! She'd look like a little kid!

But they could, if they chose to do just that. And Sasha, no matter how desperately she wanted to deny that fact, couldn't stop them if they decided to cut her hair. She gave Courtney a pitiful pleading look, but she just ignored her.

She didn't ignore the question, though, for she stepped over to stand at Sasha's side. Tiny fingers reached up then gently stroked Sasha's hair, fingering a lock. "She would look awful cute in that," she agreed. "And I'd like that, too."

Sasha's stomach dropped to her toes. They were gonna do it. Tears welled up in her huge, grass green eyes, filling them until they resembled glittering pools. Then she gave a convulsive sob of relief as Courtney wistfully said, "I'd really like that, yes. She'd look awful cute. But Twerp's gotta go back to school after summer's over. And I'm not gonna send her back to school with a pageboy. Her punishment ends when summer vacation does. I'm not gonna have her teased until it grows back."

Sasha gave Courtney a heartfelt grateful look. She hadn't even considered that! But Courtney had, and was concerned and worried about her being mocked and teased! A spot of gentle warmth filled her at that.

She didn't even fret or sulk when Courtney announced, "I'll just have it ponied. And just plain shampoo and conditioner for now." Somehow, when compared to a pageboy, a ponytail didn't seem at all that horrendous.

"Very well," Samantha nodded as she jotted that down. "You can always change your mind, later, if you want."

Sasha felt a little chill at that, realizing that, if for some reason Courtney did change her mind, she'd wind up in a dreaded pageboy. Considering the reason her cousin had decided against it, Sasha didn't think any change of decision would be frivolous. But that didn't rule out that being used as a punishment if Sasha really badly messed up, either.

Courtney had never intended to have Twerp's hair cut. And for the reason she gave, too. Her hair was down to just the middle of her back, and she knew how long it took for hair to grow. It didn't feel . . . right . . . to decide to do something that she couldn't change right back. Nor did it feel right to do something to Twerp that, later on, once she was back home and was just plain old Sasha again, she'd still have to deal with. Which was a shame, because she really did want to see Sasha in a pageboy!

But, she was accountable for her slave and, while she might choose to do whatever she wanted, she was supposed to make wise, responsible choices, too. So, in this instance, she wistfully and regrettably chose not to have her slave's hair cut so short.

"Well, I think that just about covers everything for now," Samantha announced. About time! Sasha thought, then her little jaw would have dropped if it hadn't been strapped up snug as she continued, "Now it's time for her training to begin."

Training? Training? What did they mean by that? Sasha wondered. She didn't have to wonder for long.