Sasha didn't have to wait very long. No more then fifteen minutes after she'd been stored Courtney returned, carrying two bowls with her. Crouching in front of the cage Courtney unlocked the front grill and slid both inside before leaning back against a nearby cage and watching.

Sasha wasn't surprised to see oatmeal and water again, although she wanted to cry. This was the second straight day of nothing but oatmeal and water for meals and she was mortally tired of having nothing but that to eat and drink. Which didn't stop her from shoveling it into her mouth. At least her hands weren't cuff locked behind her back so she could eat instead of lapping!

She wanted to protest but didn't dare. She knew, beyond any doubt, what would happen if she opened her mouth to complain: Courtney would simply take away both bowls, whether Sasha had finished eating or not, and she'd be gagged so quick her head would spin. And, although she couldn't think what could be worse then plain, cold, bland oatmeal, Sasha had a horrid suspicion she'd find out if she complained aloud.

How many times during the last two weeks had she sniped, groused and whined over meals Aunt Samantha had made? And for no real, good reason other then to bitch and moan, to score against her Aunt and Courtney. Visions of lasagna, pork chops and chicken parmesan danced in her head, all meals Aunt Samantha had made for dinner and Sasha had rolled her eyes and derisively sneered at.

She was finished way too soon, the bowl empty but her tummy wanting more, but Courtney simply removed both bowls, relocked the front grill and left. Sniffling, Sasha wriggled and got as comfy as she could. She wanted to work up a good case of the mads against both of them but couldn't. Whether she liked admitting it or not Sasha had no one but herself to blame for the boring, tasteless meals.

"You'll eat, only when your Mistress decides to feed you. And what and how she decides to feed you. That might be cold, plain oatmeal for the rest of the summer if a slave keeps being disobedient. You'll drink, only when your Mistress decides her slave needs to drink. And drink whatever a slave is given. That might just be tepid water. A slave might not like just cold oatmeal and water, but you'll live on that. And that's all a slave can expect: the bare minimum to live on. Anything more then that will be up to your Mistress and, at the very least, will need to be earned."

That's what Aunt Samantha had told her that very first morning. She'd warned Sasha, clear as day, what would happen if she kept being disobedient but, as she had been for a long time now, Sasha was sure she could outmaneuver and finagle until she got her way. She'd chosen to ignore that warning, just as she had the ones that had followed, and now she was paying the price.

This just wasn't fair. It wasn't right and it shouldn't be happening to her! She kept telling herself that, even as another part of her considered that stealing wasn't right, either, but people still got robbed anyway. This wasn't going to stop or go away simply because it wasn't right.

And even as she fretted over all that, another part of her wondered what all this would be like if she stopped fighting and resisting. They kept hinting that things could and would get better if she just stopped being defiant and rebellious, after all. Nor could she forget, not after a week's worth of illicit exploration, that lots of people chose to do this. Surely, there must be something fun about this if so many people willingly decided to be slaves!

No sooner did she think of that then Sasha's tummy started tingling again. Oh yes, she blushingly thought, by now she had some pretty good ideas what those 'somethings' might be.

She was itchy from sweat and the sticky drying slobber on her chest. Sasha wanted a shower very badly, and again that only reminded her of the penalties of disobedience. Was it really worth it? To keep resisting?

Yes! a small voice shouted. It is! This is exactly what they hope to accomplish! They're brainwashing you girl! They're trying to make you so miserable, feel so hopeless and despaired that you'll start believing and doing anything and everything they tell you!

Well, maybe that was true. And maybe it wasn't. True, she certainly felt distressed, desolate, forlorn and anxious. But she didn't think, or feel, that they were tricking her. Playing mean, evil, wicked mind games with her to get her to do things. In fact, they'd been quite straightforward in explaining just what was what. She might not like what was required, no, but she understood that, and very clearly, too.

Oh, she didn't know what to think any more! She was so confused, and nowhere was that bewilderment more perplexingly prevalent then how her body was reacting to things. Almost as if it had a mind of its own! And that wasn't even taking into account all the new and powerful sensations she'd been experiencing, so heady and wonderful they made her head swim and feel so lightheaded and fuzzy glowy.

Sasha didn't have much time to dwell on matters, as Courtney soon returned. And much quicker then Sasha had expected. She didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

Not that it mattered, either way, for she wouldn't have a choice no matter which way it turned out. She backed out of the cage when told to do so, then stood up to be leashed, again when told. It wasn't until Courtney was actually leading her off that Sasha realized she really hadn't thought twice about crawling on hands and knees out of the cage or assuming the leash position. She'd simply done it when told. Huh. How odd.

She didn't have much time to ponder on that, as Courtney lead her to the shower area, stopping in the locker room. Unclipping the leash she then unlocked and removed the four sturdy black leather cuffs. But not the collar. That hadn't been removed, ever, remaining around her neck from the moment Courtney had locked it around her throat.

Courtney set the cuffs in the one locker then said, "A slave had twenty minutes to shower. She is to be kneeling, the cuffs locked back on, when she is returned for. Don't dawdle." And then she left.

Considering the crappy items she'd been given to wash up with, dawdling certainly wasn't going to be a problem, Sasha thought as she gathered up the meager, mediocre things. Still, even just sluicing off with warm clean water would feel heavenly, and Sasha quickly scurried to the showers to wash up, eager to rinse off the itchy, sticky dried sweat and spit . . . and cream. Rubbing the thick, harsh bar of soap over her skin Sasha - as before - chose not to use the burlap washcloth, using her small hands instead. Although she wasn't going to have any choice when it came to using its bigger mate to dry off with. Actually washing down took only a few minutes, but Sasha lingered after, luxuriating in the refreshing, revitalizing warmth of the pounding spray. It felt so good to be clean!

She didn't forget to replace the items once she was done. She hadn't thought Courtney had been joking when she'd said the next step would be chaining Sasha to the wall and scrubbing her down with a coarse bristle brush and ice water. And she'd rather not find out - the hard way - that yes, indeed, Courtney had been utterly serious. She still believed it was a stupid waste of time to put stuff back and away you were only going to use tomorrow. But she was starting to think it was a bigger waste of time beating her head against a brick wall. It wasn't getting her anywhere. Well, nowhere forwards, anyway. She'd certainly been going backwards in a big way though!

There had to be some way out of this mess, she was sure of that. What that might be she hadn't any clue . . . yet. But she wasn't just going to give totally up and start accepting everything. She'd 'go with the flow' for now, until she'd figured things out. Until then, it just didn't make any sense to keep making things worse, making them any harder on herself then they already were.

It didn't take long to put the cuffs back on and resecure the locks. She debated waiting until the last moment to kneel, even glanced over at the Executive door to see if it was cracked open again, with Courtney on the other side and peeking in to see what Sasha did. It was closed, though and, as far as Sasha could tell, she was completely alone and unobserved.

As far as she could tell, anyway.

Considering the fiasco the last time she rebelliously lounged about instead of kneeling as told, and what the result of that had been, Sasha decided to err on the side of caution. Discretion being the better part of valor, as it were. Besides, her butt clenched just at the memory of that strapping! So, with a deep sigh, Sasha settled down onto her knees and waited.

She froze, her blood feeling like ice water, as her Aunt entered from the Executive side. Even as she nervously and warily tensed Sasha felt an odd startled jolt. Now that she thought about it, although Aunt Samantha had been habitually stern and forbidding, so far it had been only Courtney that had actually punished Sasha. Aunt Samantha had yet to lay a single finger on Sasha, it had been Courtney that had hand spanked, hairbrushed, cropped and strapped her!

Yet it wasn't Courtney that made Sasha instinctively feel nervous, anxious and intimidated. But . . . maybe she should. Sasha nervously licked her lips, remembering something Courtney had told her yesterday morning.

"Well, if a slave won't obey out of gratitude and respect, then I'll make sure she obeys out of fear."

Considering the grim tone of that declaration, Sasha had no disillusions about Courtney's sincerity. Is Sasha didn't start responding to Courtney like she did to her mother, obviously Courtney intended to do whatever it took to inculcate the proper response from Sasha.

"A slave is to come with me," Samantha announced, and Sasha quickly rose to her small feet. Now was certainly not the time to get lost in her thoughts and musings! Perhaps Aunt Samantha hadn't - yet - actually punished Sasha, but that didn't mean she never would. Nor did that mean she wouldn't inform Courtney about any errors, and Sasha was slowly starting to realize - and accept - that Courtney had no difficulties at all about bringing the proverbial hammer down on her slave.

Sasha quickly scurried over to her Aunt, then stood there in picture perfect posture, even as her strained, sore muscles complained and ached. Since she didn't see a leash, she didn't assume 'Leash', but also wasn't quite sure what to do when her Aunt simply turned, said "Follow," then slowly started walking off. That hadn't been covered in her training!

So, rather then simply remain standing - which could be construed as disobeying the order to follow (and there was no way Sasha wanted to be accused of direct disobedience, not with the memory of that punishment strap yesterday so vivid in her mind, let alone all the other ways of punishment and discipline she'd been experiencing!) - Sasha started padding along after her Aunt. She kept the same position and distance as if she had been leashed, guessing she couldn't really go wrong doing that.

She wasn't taken far at all. In fact, lead into the Executive side of the bathing rooms. Then softly flushed, unable to stop wriggling a bit in surprised pleasure, when her Aunt stopped, then turned and smiled at her. "Very good Twerp. It pleases me to see a slave show intellect and initiative. Yes, that is the correct way to follow when a leash isn't used."

Now, why that should make her feel warm and glowy inside, Sasha had no idea. No matter how you looked at it, she was being praised as a slave. And that should set her ears back.

But . . . it hadn't.

And then her eyes widened, and a wave of hopeful longing surged through her as Sasha saw they'd stopped by the massage table. She'd give anything to get another massage now, her muscled ached so! Especially after the hours long contortions she'd gone through trying to polish those boots this afternoon!

So she couldn't help looking woeful and deeply disappointed when her Aunt started speaking, and realized a massage wasn't in the offing for her. "This evening a slave is to be instructed in the art of massage," her Aunt began, which almost immediately made Sasha feel mulish. She remembered Courtney saying, that first evening (was that only two days ago? Sasha abruptly blinked; it seemed like a lifetime ago since the 'discovery') that she wanted her slave trained to do massages. And Sasha no more enjoyed that prospect now then she had then.

But, like everything else, her feelings didn't enter the equation.

Sasha swallowed - hard - at seeing her Aunt's expression suddenly intensify, and she quickly dropped her eyes down to the floor. The child wasn't at all used to hiding or guarding her thoughts and feelings, and obviously her Aunt had picked up on that, as well as her delay in responding. Sullenly she nodded, showing that she'd heard. But, certainly not that she was happy about things!

There was a pause of several seconds, then Samantha continued. "For these lessons, a slave may look up." Then her voice took on a slightly amused, understanding tone. "It will, after all, be difficult to learn if a slave doesn't watch."

Much to her surprise, Sasha found the ensuing forty-five minutes to be fascinating and enjoyable. There was a great deal more to massage then she'd ever dreamed. She was shown how to set up the massage table. Shown the different items used to massage with, ranging from polished wood rollers to heated stone balls. Each one was patiently explained how to use, and why to select them over something else. The different massage styles were explained, from Swedish to Shiatzu, and what the major differences were between all of them.

And then came the oils. There were so many! Sasha had no idea so many different oils existed for massage! Especially since her Aunt had supplies of neutral oils that you then mixed essential oils into. There was Frankincense, which had a rich, sweet, warm scent, and was used to rejuvenate and calm, as well as an anti-inflammatory and antiseptic. Peppermint, which was fresh and minty, and used to stimulate, as well as an antispasmodic and decongestant. Petitgrain, with a wonderful floral, citrusy, woody scent, and used to soothe, relieve stress and relax.

There was clary sage, geranium, juniper berry, lavender, marjoram, lemon grass, tea tree . . . a whole host of essential oils!

Aunt Samantha showed Sasha how to fill the small oil container with the neutral base, then decant out the proper amount of selected essential oil and mix them. She also showed her how to use the oil warmer, a little stoneware device that was plugged into an outlet, the oil container placed inside before turning it on.

By the time that lesson was over, Sasha's head was starting to swim and ache. But, to her amazement, she'd actually enjoyed the instruction. She did like learning new things, and she'd never have believed there was this much involved in what, to her, had been something as simple as a massage.

She was, however, worried that she'd never remember all this but, to her surprise, her Aunt was prepared even there, presenting Sasha with printed out sheets containing everything they'd covered so far. Sasha didn't know when she'd have time to study it, as she hadn't yet had anything close to having time on her own - unless you counted being caged and stored as 'free time' - but she assumed between her Aunt and Courtney they'd set up some sort of 'study time' for her. If they seriously meant for her to memorize and learn all this, of course.

After that came instructions for actual massage. How and when and why to use the flats of palms, the tips of fingers, the back of elbows. How and when and why to use sweeps, strokes, rolling of muscles, kneading. For this Samantha provided actual books that had both illustrations and photos of the techniques involved.

There wasn't any way Sasha was going to become an expert at this with just one lesson. She'd figured that out quickly enough on her own, but it helped her peace of mind when her Aunt assured her that neither she nor her Mistress expected that, either. It also helped when her Aunt explained that she'd be there her first few times to help guide her along. Not that Sasha was any more enthused about giving the twe . . . Courtney a massage then she had been before the lessons.

Aunt Samantha had Sasha prepare petitgrain oil, watching her as she poured out the base, then the essential, oils and mixed them together before placing it in the warmer. Then watched as she readied towels and the table. It was obvious watching her that the slave was sore and achy herself, but she'd no one but herself to blame for that and Samantha felt no sympathy for her.

Finished her tasks Sasha darted a glance up at her Aunt, and was rewarded with a soft smile. "Very good," Samantha praised. "Very good indeed," and again Sasha couldn't help but feel a soft glowy flush of pleasure at being praised.

It was about then that Courtney entered. She'd obviously just showered, for her hair was still damp and wrapped up turban-style, and her fair skin looked fresh and pink and glistening. She was wearing a robe that Sasha had never seen her wear before: a shimmering, dark blue, satin, short-sleeved bathrobe that came down only to the tops of her little knees. She looked, Sasha noticed, oddly shyly expectant and, moments later, she understood why.

"Your Mistress is ready to be massaged," Aunt Samantha told her, and Sasha's little jaw dropped a bit at that. Say what?

Suddenly the joy she'd felt at learning something exciting and new was dampened, as the realization - once again - that this had been a slave being trained hit her. So the twerp expects her slave to massage her, huh? Sasha silently fumed inside. Great. How nice.

Courtney still looked odd. Shy yet eager, timid yet expectant.

Aunt Samantha leaned down to Sasha and whispered, "Your Mistress has never been massaged before. Ever. This will be the first time she's ever had a massage."

For some reason that made Sasha pause. She got a thoughtful, frowny sort of look on her face as she lowered her eyes again to the floor, furiously pondering, although now and then darting quick peeks up at Courtney who remained standing there with that same expression on her face.

Now, why did her Aunt tell her that? Why that, instead of something like 'A slave better do a good job, or else she'll get punished?' She didn't know, but she was positive Aunt Samantha had an excellent reason for saying exactly what she had. Again Sasha glanced up at Courtney, who looked very much like a kid on her birthday, facing a huge wrapped package and not quite daring to believe it might be the present she'd dreamed for.

Sasha nibbled her lip. It would be so easy just to do a indifferent job of this. She couldn't be punished for that, after all, because there'd be no proof she could have done any better.

Unlike the earlier boot polishing fiasco.

And it wasn't as if Courtney needed a massage. Unlike Sasha, whose muscles still cried out for a massage themselves.

No. No, for Courtney this would only be something nice and pleasurable, and not a needed necessity.

And Sasha had the power to make it nice, or not.

It felt nice realizing she still had some power of her own. Some ability to influence how they felt. Especially since, up to now, she hadn't managed at all to affect them one way or the other.

But, although Courtney had been the one to actually punish her, she'd also been the one to stand up to Aunt Samantha for her, too. She'd also been the one to show deep concern and care for Sasha, and hadn't ever, not once, really lorded or gloated over Sasha's fall.

Oh, she might have enjoyed doing certain things, true, but she hadn't reveled, or gleefully exulted, over Sasha's distress and unhappiness.

Unlike, Sasha hated admitting, she'd done to Courtney, taking delight in pushing her around, finding pleasure in her misery and distress.

But, if Courtney was so eager to get a real massage, and if this was going to be her first time ever, why in the world did she want Sasha -who had, after all, only just started learning - to massage her, instead of her Mom, who, obviously - based on Sasha's first-hand experience - was very good at it?

Sasha's pensive reverie was interrupted by Courtney's soft, almost whispered "I'd like my slave to massage me now," and she blinked at the tone. It wasn't firm; rather it was hesitant and timid. Nor had it sounded like her usual order, but rather almost a yearning request. As if, she thought again, Courtney was wistfully hopeful and shyly thrilled. In fact, when Sasha dared to peek up, Courtney's cheeks were a very soft pink, and her eyes looked huge and enormous.

Huh.

Oh well, Sasha thought, mentally shrugging. It might not have been phrased as an order, but she knew very well it was. So she might as well make the best of it. The quicker she got this over with, the sooner it would be done. Although, she thought to herself, all that likely would mean is being stored away again for the night as soon as she finished.

She glanced up at her Aunt, unsure how to begin. Samantha seemed to expect that, for she simply leaned down and whispered, "Go over and remove her robe."

Sasha immediately brightly blushed at that. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised at that. She'd been naked for her massage, after all. Then again, she'd been naked for virtually three days now, so that necessarily didn't mean anything. But the photos and illustrations in the books had also shown the massagee as bared, so that should have prepared her.

She felt abruptly, well . . . not uncomfortable or embarrassed, exactly. More like shy. She hadn't ever pictured undressing a girl before and, although she'd seen her little cousin undressed before, somehow this just didn't feel the same.

Somehow she got her feet to start moving, stopping once she stood right in front of Courtney. As her little cousin was quite a bit shorter, Sasha started to crouch in order to more easily reach the robe belt, and was startled when she wound up kneeling before her instead. It hadn't been a conscious decision at all, just something that, well, seemed to happen.

Flicking a glance upwards Sasha was sure she'd see a gloating expression on her cousin's face, and literally twitched and jerked at what she did see:

Courtney's face glowed with pride and approval, her huge sea gray eyes gleaming and bright.

Sasha almost rocked back on her heels at that, stunned and startled at how that made her feel inside. It made her feel . . . nice.

Her cheeks grew warm again as she started reaching out for the robe belt, and abruptly realized just what she'd be staring at once she opened up the robe. Kneeling like this put her head right at Courtney's hips. The same image must have occurred to Courtney, as her face and throat turned a bright pink, too, and tiny toes started curling and wriggling. Taking a deep breath Sasha steeled herself, and small fingers gently trembled as she untied the knot.

The satin was very slippery, and the robe belt came undone smooth as silk, the robe itself gently parting, revealing a line of creamy skin from throat downwards. Creamy skin that was a soft pink as Courtney literally blushed all the way down to her tummy, as she started wriggling as she stood there.

Sasha blushed, too, for she'd been absolutely correct; peeking right at her was Courtney's coo . . . pussy.

Swallowing again Sasha rose to her feet, then stepped behind Courtney and slipped the robe off her shoulders, baring her cousin completely. She almost just negligently draped the robe over the back of a chair but, at the last moment, something made her carefully fold it up and lay it neatly on the seat instead. Sasha looked up at her Aunt then, seeking further instruction, and blinked at the warm, approving look in her eyes. Only then did Sasha really think about what she'd just done, and gave a mental sigh of relief for thinking to fold the robe up rather then just toss it over the back.

Courtney looked more then a little shy at the moment, standing there stark naked, and Sasha couldn't help feeling a bit good about that. Let her feel that for a change!

Samantha meaningfully cut her eyes to the stacked and ready towels, and Sasha's mind snapped back to what she was doing. In short order she had warmed towels laid atop the massage table, and had lead Courtney over, silently motioning for her to hop up and lay on her tummy. Courtney seemed more then happy to be face down, as that concealed her bare front from view. Needless to say, Sasha had no sympathy at all for any embarrassment her cousin might feel.

Pouring a little bit of the warmed oil on her palm Sasha briskly rubbed her hands together as she'd been shown, then started smoothing the oil over Courtney's back and shoulders, enjoying the floral, citrusy scent of the petitgrain. As she did, Sasha started replaying in her mind everything that her Aunt had taught her so far.

As Sasha worked her small, slippery hands in broad, sweeping strokes over her little cousin's back and shoulders Courtney softly sighed several times, her little body relaxing under her hands. They were happy, contended sounds of blissful pleasure, Sasha noted, so she must be doing something right!

She massaged both shoulders, gently rolling and kneading, then worked down the length of her back, stopping just above her little bare rump. Reoiling her small hands she then started stroking along her sides, until she'd massaged all the major muscle groups of her back. More oil, and then Sasha started massaging one little arm, eliciting more groans of pleasure and delight from Courtney.

It wasn't that she intended to do a half-assed job of things, because she hadn't. But, the more Courtney turned into a limp, boneless rag doll under her ministrations, the more she softly groaned and sighed, the more Sasha started paying more attention to what she was doing.

Now and then her Aunt would lean down and whisper to her, modifying or correcting what she was doing. She'd hold out the applicable section of a book so that Sasha could see it, showing her the proper method, and Sasha would simply nod and make the appropriate correction. One thing she discovered very early on was that the twe . . . Courtney was a whole lot more muscular then Sasha had realized. Courtney might look tiny - and she was, no mistake about that - but those were firm, toned muscles beneath her silky smooth, creamy skin.

Once she'd finished both arms, all the way down to tiny fingers and thumbs, Sasha shifted position and started doing her legs. As before, she started with the major muscles, firmly working both thighs and calves. And all throughout Courtney kept making little groans, moans and sighs of pleasure and bliss.

Until Sasha reoiled her hands and started massaging a tiny foot. At that Courtney giggled and jerked it away, finding the touch ticklish. "I'm sorry!" Sasha softly blurted, not at all intending to tickle, then looked up at her Aunt with a shocked and horrified expression, realizing she'd spoken aloud and fully expecting to be punished for that.

Only to be shocked a second time at seeing the gentle smile on her Aunt's face as she reached out and gently ruffled Sasha's hair before leaning down and whispering, "Use a firmer pressure for her feet. It won't feel ticklish that way."

Sasha nodded, heaving a sigh of relieve at the reprieve, then turned back and took Courtney's little foot in her hands again.

Firmer pressure or not, now and then Courtney would twitch and giggle, although for the most part Sasha managed massaging both of them without too much difficulty.

Gradually Sasha was, not only relaxing, but also enjoying what she was doing. It was the oddest thing, that. She ought to be resenting having to do this and, on some level, she still was. But there was also no mistaking the sheer delight Courtney found in this, either. And it was Sasha who was making her feel so good. It was her efforts that Courtney was basking in.

And that wasn't even counting the pleasure Sasha was discovering in actually giving a massage. It was hard work, no mistaking it, and she was appreciating more her own massage, now, that her Aunt had given her. But as hard as it was, it was also relaxing, too. The sort of quiet contentment one got when doing something they enjoyed, and Sasha was surprised at finding out she enjoyed giving massages.

She finished the feet, then looked up at the only spot left on Courtney's back she hadn't massaged yet, and felt her cheeks warm up again. Well, there wasn't any help for it; it wasn't as if she could ignore doing there.

So she oiled her hands again before rubbing them over Courtney's little bare butt, fighting back the sudden urge to give them a sharp spank with her hand. That was actually an easy fight to win, as she knew, beyond any doubt, that swift - and painful - retribution would follow if she were actually silly and stupid enough to do that.

Both little pert cheeks tightened as Sasha laid her hands there, Courtney not having expected that, and Sasha's lips curved in a grin at the embarrassed sounding giggle her little cousin made. Obviously, she wasn't as prepared for that happening as she'd thought she'd been. Then she gave another soft groan and melted again as Sasha's small hands kneaded the firm muscled there, just as the books - and her Aunt - had shown how to do.

It wasn't as difficult to do as Sasha had feared, after all. At least, as long as she concentrated more on the massage then on where she was massaging. Then she nibbled her lip, realizing that, very soon, she'd be having Courtney roll onto her back, and she'd be massaging her front.

Thoroughly massaging Courtney's rump and sleek little hips, Sasha finally reached that point. There wasn't any way of delaying that inevitability any longer. Then it occurred to her that Aunt Samantha hadn't been at all embarrassed at giving Sasha a full body massage. And, just as importantly, the books had made that seem so matter of fact, too. Still, Sasha had never had her hands on a girl's body before, not like this, so it was a sort of push between feeling shy, nervous and embarrassed, and of looking at it as simply 'business'.

Now, how the heck was she supposed to get Courtney to roll over, anyway? Sasha abruptly thought. She wasn't permitted to speak, so she couldn't tell Courtney to do that!

Looking up at her Aunt with questioning eyes Sasha waited, hoping Aunt Samantha would understand her silent query. Samantha leaned down and whispered in Sasha's ear, "This time, and this time only, may a slave speak. A slave is to say 'Mistress, please roll over now.' "

Sasha couldn't help it; she immediately bridled, both at being called a slave, and at being told to call Courtney her Mistress. Her eyes abruptly dropped, though, when the gentle, warm look in her Aunt's immediately turned hard and cold when Sasha turned mulish and balky.

There really wasn't any choice, and Sasha knew it. If she refused, or intentionally messed this up, she'd be punished. By now she'd learned that. And the hard way, too.

Turning back to face Courtney she unhappily mumbled, "Mistress, please roll over now," just as she'd been instructed, then tensed, feeling a wave of ice ripple down her back as she sensed her Aunt glare at her.

Courtney, however, simply rolled onto her back, and once she had Sasha's mouth abruptly felt dry, her little jaw dropped and her tummy was suddenly hit hard by a wave of tingles at what she saw.

Her little cousin lay there, fully displayed and exposed, and looking utterly relaxed, indolent and content, sprawled bonelessly limp and languorous atop the massage table, her glittering gray eyes gleaming through mere slits of her lids. There wasn't a trace or sign of any embarrassment, nothing but sheer delight and pleasure.

There was no way for Sasha to avoid looking at her. Not when she was going to have to, very shortly, massage everywhere, after all. So she didn't miss seeing her little cousin's tiny, pale pink nipples were no longer their normal soft puffiness, but instead were gently puckered.

'Oh my!' Sasha thought, quite surprised. 'I made her feel like that by simply massaging her?'

She was doubly stunned, in fact. First by the simple realization that Courtney was reacting that way to being massaged, and then by the understanding that Sasha, herself, had made her feel that nice.

And, rather than being embarrassed by that, instead Sasha felt an odd, shivery tingle ripple through her at that understanding.

A soft cough from behind reminded Sasha that she was supposed to be massaging and not woolgathering. Softly blushing at that she regained a bit of composure by adding more of the warmed oil to her hands, then started smoothing it over Courtney's taut little tummy. She struggled valiantly not to stare at Courtney's bare chest but, again, there was no helping that. For she'd have to massage there, too, in just moments, and Sasha felt incredibly nervous and shy about doing that.

She got mad at herself when she realized she felt that way, too. This was just a massage, after all, dammit! Aunt Samantha sure hadn't been embarrassed or shy when she'd massaged Sasha! Surely Sasha could get through this just as well!

Sasha put more oil on her small hands then, taking a deep breath . . . started smoothing the warm slippery fluid over her little cousin's utterly flat chest and tiny nipples, feeling her cheeks hotly flame as she did.

Then froze at Courtney's reaction: a soft, breathy airy sigh, her feathery lids fluttering.

Her tiny nipples puckering under Sasha's slick palms.

Sasha's heart started thumping faster, her tummy fluttered and tingled. Was Courtney feeling like Sasha did, when her chest and nipples were rubbed? It sure seemed that way!

She wasn't quite sure how she felt about that. She was having a difficult enough time dealing with having herself played with, let alone being the one doing it to another! Yet her small hands continued stroking and gliding across the flat expanse of Courtney's chest as she pondered and fretted, and all the while Courtney continued softly, breathily sighing.

Sasha lifted her small hands a moment, her pale tawny brows lifting almost to her hairline as she saw how tight and hard Courtney's tiny nipples had become. Grass green eyes flicked a glance up at her face, and Sasha saw a soft flush to Courtney's cheeks. Somehow that didn't seem one of embarrassment.

Certainly not when Courtney then whispered, almost plaintively, "More? Please?"

Sasha's tummy fluttered all the harder at that, as now-familiar tingles started rippling though her. A tiny, pink, moist tonguetip traced around her lips, as an odd feeling of . . . power . . . coursed through her.

Not control. Not command. But power nonetheless. An understanding that, even as a slave, she could - and somehow did - have power over Courtney.

The ability to please and delight. The capability to make Courtney feel good inside.

Just as Courtney could make Sasha feel good inside.

Without conscious thought or decision, Sasha lowered her small, slippery hands again, this time intentionally stroking and caressing those tiny, hard peaks between her fingers. And felt more shivers ripple through her at Courtney's reaction as she did. She was so engrossed in what she was doing and seeing, and in how that was making her feel inside, that it was quite some time before she consciously realized what she was doing.

Playing with a girl's nipples.

Furiously blushing Sasha added more oil to her small hands, mortally grateful she had more to massage still, so that that would cover her abruptly stopping. Courtney deeply sighed when she'd stopped, but was as bonelessly limp as ever before. Sasha started massaging the tops of her little thighs, but couldn't keep from darting glances upwards at those tiny, incredibly hard points.

Again, as she had before, Sasha left Courtney's hips until last. But, unlike before, she wouldn't be massaging her butt this time. And, as before, sooner then she wished that moment of truth arrived.

If Sasha had felt discomfited at massaging Courtney's butt and chest, she felt immeasurably so now facing doing her pussy. But it was the last area to do, and the sooner she got it over with . . .

She really shouldn't have been startled, she thought, when she finally steeled herself to look directly there - having, up to now, avoided looking there - at seeing what she did. And it really wasn't as if she hadn't seen Courtney's pussy before. Although, up to now, she hadn't really stared at it. So she knew what it usually looked like. Now, however . . .

Now . . . there was a very soft blush there, and it was ever so lightly puffy. And Sasha knew what that meant, now. Especially after the anatomy lessons from before!

Again she felt very odd at that. Somewhat embarrassed and awkward. Yet oddly pleased, too, knowing that she was the reason that Courtney was feeling aroused. That was Sasha had been doing had made Courtney feel that way.

Again, that strange feeling of power.

Before she could start massaging there, though, Aunt Samantha had leaned down and whispered to her. Sasha looked up at her Aunt, an utterly shocked expression at what she'd heard. Was she serious??

Her Aunt just returned her gaze with a mild one of her own, and Sasha realized the choice was entirely up to her.

Her heart started thumping even harder, her tummy tingled worse, and both reactions utterly shocked and surprised Sasha. How could she even consider doing what her Aunt had suggested!?

And it had been a suggestion, no two ways about it. Not a command, not an order. It had been left entirely up to Sasha whether she did so or not.

How could her Aunt even think Sasha could do something like that? Sasha thought with something akin to disgust and dismay.

And then the answer hit her, as hard as a blow to the back of her head.

Because Sasha was Courtney slave, and not her cousin.

And because a slave could, and did, do things like that. Sasha didn't even need her Aunt's assurance on that score, for her very own illicit explorations down here had shown her proof of that.

Sasha swallowed. Hard. The only other time she'd felt like a real slave, rather then a captive or prisoner, had been when she'd had to struggle to polish Courtney's boots when cuffed and gagged. But just considering what her Aunt had said sent those very same sensations coursing through her.

Powerfully surging through her, making her literally tremble and quiver.

Deny it to their faces Sasha undeniably would do, and continue stridently do so. But she couldn't lie to herself. Not any longer. Not after three entire days. She wanted to be a slave. Wanted the feelings she'd been having. There was no way she could admit that, not to anyone, and sometimes not even to herself. But, if she did what her Aunt had whispered to her, she wouldn't have to, and she knew that.

And she still didn't like being punished this way. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right. There was a lot she rebelled against, and nothing was gonna change how she felt that way, either.

Could she do this? It was awfully embarrassing, just to consider! Sasha wove back and forth on small bare feet, her mind chaotically whirling. Two things were utterly crystal clear to her. One was that, no, Sasha the girl would never ever do anything like that, but Twerp the slave could. And the other is that neither her Aunt nor Courtney would mock, condemn or find it disgusting if she did.

Goosebumps raced up and down her skin. She felt lightheaded. Her tummy ached every bit as badly as it had whenever she'd daydreamed about what she'd seen down here. About what it would be like to be captured and kidnapped, bound and gagged and made a slave.

She wished she could close her eyes, but there was no way she could. Taking a deep breath, Sasha pursed her lips in a little girl kiss . . .

. . . very slowly leaned down, her heart pounding harder and harder . . .

. . . her eyes fixed and focused on her little cousin's bare, exposed pussy . . .

. . . then very softly kissed there.

It . . . it wasn't as awful as she'd imagined it would be, Sasha realized. Granted, she'd never really kiss-kissed anyone before, let alone kissed a pussy, but still . . . it wasn't awful or disgusting.

Although her little legs almost buckled as she softly placed her lips there. A shock almost as powerful as an electrical jolt coursed through her at that delicate touch. Sasha felt Courtney tense at that contact. Heard her soft, breathy, startled hiss as her warm, soft lips touched. Obviously Courtney hadn't any idea this might happen. Somehow that sent even more tingles racing through Sasha.

She hadn't known what to expect. At least she hadn't been worried about how clean Courtney might be, since she'd clearly just come from showering. And, in fact, Sasha could scent the delicate fragrance of soap from Courtney. And there wasn't really any taste, either.

But there was, most certainly, warmth. Sasha could feel the warmth of Courtney's skin as she lightly placed a second kiss there, hearing and feeling her reaction yet again.

If anyone had told Sasha, just days ago, that she'd one day kiss a girl's pussy she'd have called them a liar. Even now, she couldn't quite believe she was doing just that very thing. But, she was, and she somehow instinctively knew that, having done so once, Courtney was very likely to command her slave to do so again.

Sasha felt Courtney gently part her little legs, opening them wider in silent invitation. The soft pink flush there had deepened a bit, now looking more rosy and dusky. Slightly more swollen and puffier, too, Sasha noted. She still felt extremely self-conscious, shy and awkward about kissing there, but she didn't stop, either. Sort of a 'in for a penny, in for a pound' rationale had taken over.

Very slowly, very softly Sasha trailed delicate little kisses from the very top to the very bottom, then back up again, and felt oddly pleased as she heard Courtney's breathing start sounding ragged and breathy. She wondered if Courtney would become wet now, even as another part of her hoped she wouldn't. She didn't think she was quite ready for that and, if it did happen, she'd stop kissing for sure.

Aunt Samantha had only asked if Sasha would consider kissing Courtney's pussy. Which had shocked her a great deal. But she hadn't said anything about how long to do that; if it was just supposed to be a single peck, or more. But as long as she'd steeled herself to do it to start with, Sasha decided as long as she was 'down there' she might as well indulge her own growing sense of curiosity about things.

Samantha, meanwhile, was looking on in stunned amazement. She'd expected Twerp to balk at her suggestion, and had only said what she had to plant the seed in her mind for the future. She'd never really expected her to actually do it, let alone continue doing so! It had been so shocking that she stood there, frozen, and just watched.

Although 'frozen' might not be the best adjective to use. For the moment she'd seen Twerp start leaning down, and realized what she was about to do, Samantha had been hit with a wave of arousal powerful enough to almost drop her to her knees. This was one of the most incredibly erotic images Samantha had ever seen, and it took her several long minutes to get her mind back under conscious control again.

Well aware of how peoples' inhibitions were lessened when aroused themselves, Samantha worried that, later on, Twerp might loathe the memory of what she was currently doing. And that simply wouldn't do. Not at all. So she leaned down, and very softly whispered in her ear, "You don't have to continue Twerp. You did very well, and I'm proud of you. You're an excellent slave!"

Twerp's cheeks softly flushed in pleasure, but she clearly was asking with her eyes if that meant she had to stop. That question became somewhat moot when Courtney wistfully whispered, "More? Please?" in the same plaintive tone she'd used when Twerp had been playing with her nipples before.

Sasha's nipples were quite puckered and tingly by now, and her tummy tight and tingly too. No small part of her was shocked and amazed at how she felt at kissing a girl's pussy, and worried that that meant she was a lesbian. But, no sooner did that thought occur then another popped up, scolding. No silly. That doesn't mean you're a lesbian. It just means you're a slave, is all.

Oh, it felt so wickedly naughty and exciting! Sasha was extremely surprised at how she felt. And she didn't, really, even have to feel any guilt at all, now that she considered it. They kept harping that she was a slave and, since a slave didn't have any choice . . .

She softly started kissing again, liking how it made her feel inside to hear Courtney softly sigh, seeing how her sleek little hips gently lifted and squirmed. Knowing that she was the cause of that!

Then she blinked, making a sort of icky face as she suddenly tasted something other then clean skin, right about the time she noticed a scent other then that of soap. Lifting her head up she gazed down. Yep. Just as she'd thought. There was the tiniest trace of moisture now glistening at her slit.

Again Courtney softly whispered, "More? Please?" But, this time, Sasha unconsciously shook her head. She wasn't ready or willing to kiss Courtney's pussy once it started getting wet.

Although her tummy abruptly dropped when she realized she could be ordered to continue.

"I think that's enough for tonight," Samantha spoke up, and Sasha couldn't help darting a swift, grateful look up at her at that. Her Aunt didn't seem displeased at Sasha wanting to stop now, either, and she felt a wave of relief at that.

Courtney was feeling far too relaxed and languid to argue, floating in a world of blissful pleasure she'd no idea could exist. "Oooooh!" she breathily exclaimed. "That was sooooo wonderful!" and her obvious and sincere delight made Sasha feel very warm and glowy inside. "Thank you Twerp!"

Sasha softly flushed at the praise and thanks, dipping her head but remaining silent. At her Aunt's whispered prompting she took one of the warmed towels before motioning for Courtney to stand, then gently toweled her little bare body of excess oil before slipping her robe back on.

Sasha was quite surprised at the tight hug Courtney gave her. Surprised, yet pleased. "I'll be back for her later," Courtney told her Mom. "Take good care of her for me, please," she said before padding off.

Sasha wondered what 'good care' entailed, and soon found out as her Aunt replaced the towels atop the massage table with clean ones. She'd also, it seemed, had readied a different oil, too, as she removed a new container from the warmer. From the sweet, camphor-like fragrance it was majoram which, from what Sasha had learned, would certainly be good for her own sore, aching muscles.

But as much as she'd been terribly yearning for a massage, somehow now realizing she was about to get one felt . . . wrong. Like she was being rewarded for her efforts, and that somehow cheapened her hard work.

"Your Mistress had already decided her slave would be massaged tonight," her Aunt said, startling Sasha. It was like she'd read her mind or something! Turning to face Sasha, Samantha continued. "Not because you deserved one," she said, "because, to be blunt, a slave's efforts to date have not been exemplary," and Sasha felt her face abruptly flame at the rebuke. Much as she wished to hotly deny the criticism, and as much as she hated to admit it, her Aunt was only speaking the truth. "But because she decided her slave had overworked her muscles today in her attempts at polishing boots."

Sasha's toes tightly curled as she stared down at them, at the memory of that fiasco. If Courtney hadn't shown mercy on Sasha and uncuffed her hands so she could actually have a chance to polish them, she'd still be gagged. And it didn't help, not at all, to understand it had been Sasha's own stubbornness and defiance that had been the cause.

No, this massage wasn't any reward. Nor had it been truly earned. For Sasha truly didn't deserve it. Not at all. It was nothing more then Courtney seeing that her slave was properly cared for.

Which actually lessened her enjoyment and pleasure of it, even as her strained, sore and aching muscles cried out in relief.

Later that night, while curled up once again in her cage, Sasha had a lot to think about. She didn't think she'd ever get to sleep, but before she knew it she was fast asleep, her head pillowed atop her small, prayer-folded hands.