Sasha stood silently in 'stand' position next to her Aunt; Courtney having left her there, and who now walked over to the dining table and sat down. It was a good thing, Sasha thought, she was supposed to keep her gaze looking downwards, as she didn't want to meet Aunt Samantha's eyes at the moment. She still felt abjectly miserable at her duplicity with Courtney. And the fact that both Courtney and Aunt Samantha were pleased and proud of Sasha for something they'd thought she'd done when, in fact, she'd intentionally messed it up, made her feel even worse.

Samantha's soft yet warm smile slowly faded, replaced by a puzzled then thoughtful expression. Twerp should be looking pleased as punch for doing something good, yet her entire posture radiated unhappiness. It wasn't anything terribly obvious. But Samantha, in addition to being a Domme, was also a mother, and quite adept at interpreting a child's body language and posture. So proficient, in fact, that her daughter - and her niece, as well - felt at times as if they'd had signs plastered on their foreheads stating their inner thoughts.

'Now why on Earth,' Samantha thoughtfully pondered, 'would Twerp be unhappy at being praised?' Up to now, regardless of what the circumstances had been, Twerp had always positively reacted to praise. Granted, sometimes that reaction had been momentary and abrupt - for instance, during occasions when she'd also been feeling embarrassed or helpless - but it had nevertheless occurred.

Then suddenly the answer dawned on her. Leaning down she very softly whispered, "Accidents like that do happen now and then,' she said, referring to the tape gag becoming loose, "although I would strongly suggest against a repeat of that . . . 'accident'.'

Twerp's cheeks bloomed an abrupt crimson, which only confirmed Samantha's supposition. Then, moments later, she paled, her little body tensing then trembling.

Somehow her Aunt had guessed! Sasha cringed, expecting her deceit to now be exposed and revealed to Courtney. Who, most likely, wouldn't be at all amused and would then punish Sasha.

Samantha waited a few more seconds then, much to the little slave's astonishment, seemed to let the matter drop. For all she did was start the next lesson. "Mistress Courtney would like a cheeseburger for lunch,' she told Twerp. Not understanding where all this was leading Twerp silently nodded, muted both by tape and by rule. "Since a slave has some skill at cooking,' Samantha continued, indirectly reminding the child of all the times she'd kvetched at not being allowed to cook, "she will make her Mistress' lunch.'

Sasha blinked, jerked out of her despondency as the words finally registered. 'Say what!?' she thought. She didn't - quite - look up at her Aunt, although she glanced over Courtney's way. At the moment she was sitting at the dining table, tiny boots gently swinging back and forth a foot off the floor as she demurely peeked Sasha's direction. Her expression was vaguely familiar: almost the same shyly expectant yet eager look she'd had when she'd arrived for her massage. Obviously Courtney knew what Sasha was expected to do, and was looking forward to her slave preparing her meal!

Sasha felt torqued all out of proportion to the demand, and mostly because she'd been prohibited from cooking since the moment she came here this summer . . . but now they were going to make her cook! Adding insult to injury was requiring her to make Courtney a cheeseburger when Sasha had been eating nothing but oatmeal for almost three straight days now! Her small jaw tightened, her little chin mulishly jutted out.

Samantha saw, of course, all those signs. However, unless and until the little slave actually was disobedient or disrespectful, she wasn't going to crack the proverbial - and literal - whip. Samantha never expected a slave to be deliriously happy every single moment. There would be plenty of times when they became angry, upset, miserable and the like. But, as long as they remained polite, mannered and obedient, that was all that was important.

"Does a slave understand?' Samantha finally asked, and Sasha simply gave a curt, short nod. Oh yes, she sure did understand! It didn't mean she liked it, or was happy about it, but she sure did understand.

"Miss Courtney?' Samantha said, startling Sasha from her thoughts. Shocking her, too, hearing the words and tone. It . . . it just didn't seem . . . natural . . . normal . . . to hear her Aunt speaking to her daughter that way!

"Yes?' Courtney piped up.

"May I have permission to ungag your slave?' Samantha asked, "And also permission for her to speak for the duration of the lesson?'

Courtney nodded, her face wreathed in a dazzling smile. "OK. You may.'

Sasha was feeling . . . bewildered. It was like Aunt Samantha and Courtney had traded places or something with each other! However, before she could dwell on that she tensed, hearing her Aunt begin speaking to her.

"Before I ungag you Twerp, listen to me very closely. Due to the nature of this next lesson - which is how to make a cheeseburger - a slave may find it necessary to ask questions and/or indicate if she understands what she's been told. A slave may say - and only say - the following, so listen very closely,' Samantha warned.

" 'Yes Ma'am'. 'No Ma'am'. 'Ma'am, this one does not understand Ma'am'. 'Ma'am, this one does not know Ma'am'. 'Ma'am, may this one ask a question Ma'am?'. Understood?'

Samantha patiently waited after speaking each of the permitted phrasings, watching Twerp quite closely, her lips twitching as she struggled not to laugh at Twerp's expression. Clearly, she did understand, and wasn't at all pleased with what she'd just been told.

She wasn't, either. Especially with that 'this one' crap. It made her sound like she was a something instead of a person, a someone.

She tensed, though, when Samantha's voice turned stern. "A slave was asked if she understood. Does she?'

As the tape was still over her mouth Sasha simply nodded that she did.

Reaching down Samantha gently peeled the single strip of tape off Twerp's mouth and cheeks, wadding it into a ball and tossing it into a wastebasket. "A slave may stand relaxed,' she told Twerp, then said, "Repeat back to me the phrases a slave was just taught.'

Sasha's lips thinned at the indignity of having to speak those demeaning phrases aloud but, if she was slowly growing wary of ticking off Courtney, she was already careful about pissing her Aunt off!

"Yes Ma'am. No Ma'am,' Sasha sullenly repeated, her eyes still focused downwards on the floor. "Ma'am, may this one ask a question Ma'am? Ma'am . . . ,' Sasha furiously thought, trying to remember the others, feeling her heart start pounding hard. "Ummmm,' she stammered, still thinking, then said, "Ma'am, this one does not understand Ma'am.'

However, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't remember the fifth one, and she started to panic, sure that a punishment was about to be levied for her failure to remember.

"Not too bad Twerp,' her Aunt said, startling Sasha with her patient tone. "You forgot, 'Ma'am, this one does not know Ma'am'. Rather appropriate, too, don't you think?' she said in a somewhat teasing voice.

Sasha's little toes had been curling in distress, but at that her small jaw dropped. She wasn't being scolded or yelled at!?

Samantha carefully repeated the phrases several times again, and had Sasha repeat them back after each round. They really weren't all that hard to remember, she considered. But she still didn't like, not at all, the wording of them . . . or the implications implied behind the phrasing.

Although there was nothing she could do about how they affected her, for they only reinforced, both consciously and unconsciously, that she was a slave. Sasha wasn't even aware they were doing that . . . which was the point, after all.

She peeked over at Courtney, who was still sitting at the table. Her tiny boots were swinging much slower now, deeply focused on reading a much-folded set of printouts laid out on the table in front of her. Sasha jerked, startled, as Samantha whispered in her ear, "This isn't easy on Courtney either, you know,' she told Sasha. And then she furiously stiffened. 'It hasn't been easy on Courtney!?' she mentally seethed. She wasn't the one made a slave! Sasha indignantly fumed. She wasn't the one caged day and night, made to do things she didn't want or like doing, or have things done to her she didn't want or like! Awwww . . . poor baby!! It wasn't easy on her!?

Samantha didn't respond to Sasha's inner fury, acting as if she didn't notice. Still in a whisper she continued, "She's up, washed and dressed while you're still sleeping, and doesn't go to bed until after you're put away to sleep. She doesn't nap at all during the day, either. And she has to learn not only everything you're being taught, but even more, too. She has had lessons and tests every day now, in fact. And she's totally responsible for your well-being, too. Which, I might add, she takes very seriously and sincerely to heart. And she's done all that because she's chose to do that. Because she really does like having you as her slave.'

"She's virtually given up her entire summer vacation for you. No going out to movies, no going to the Water Theme Park, no picnics or outings. Not even her equitation lessons. Because we can't leave you alone for all that time, and Courtney understands and agrees with that. So yes, even thought you might not think it so, this hasn't been easy on her, or for her.'

Sasha darted another glance over at Courtney. She hadn't really taken into account all that. Every other summer vacation before, they had done lots of stuff, like going to amusement parks, picnics, movies and things, and she hadn't considered that Courtney wasn't going to be doing any of that this year because of Sasha. After all, it wasn't as if Courtney was the one being punished!

Nor had she thought about Courtney having to learn and study all of this, too. But, she should have. Hadn't she sneered at the idea of telling Courtney about what was in these rooms, because she was too little to understand? So Courtney would have had less of an understanding then Sasha did; in addition, she had no experience. At least Sasha had had almost a whole week of exploring and looking around.

Sasha restlessly shifted back and forth on small bare feet as she continued pensively thinking. A whole lot of her impressions, it seemed, were, in fact, correct. The only reason Sasha could see for Courtney doing all of that studying and learning was to master being a real Mistress. She didn't have to do all of that simply to demean, poke fun or humiliate Sasha for revenge.

So Courtney really was Sasha's Mistress. She was doing all of that studying to learn how to be a proper Mistress, not because she had to, but because she wanted to.

And who would, really, be the beneficiary of all that hard work? Not Courtney, because she already could just order Sasha about with impunity. She didn't have to learn all that stuff just to be able to boss Sasha about. Sasha had certainly been bossing Courtney about now for two weeks, hadn't she? And she hadn't needed any specific education to do that!

No, the only person who would benefit would be Sasha. Errrr, well, Twerp the slave, anyway, she amended.

Argh! This was all just too confusing!

'Fine,' she finally fumed. 'Making a stupid ol' cheeseburger isn't gonna kill me.'

Samantha patiently waited, watching as the wheels turned in Twerp's head. When she saw the set of her shoulders ease a bit she continued where she'd left off from before. "The first step,' she explained, "is making the patties.'

Sasha nodded, although she couldn't see what the big deal about that was. You just went to the store, after all, and bought pre-made ones!

Well, that wasn't how one made hamburger patties here, it seemed, as she soon learned. And, much to her surprise and astonishment, found this lesson to be just as enjoyable as learning all about massage had been. For Aunt Samantha was teaching her how to really cook, and not just make pre-made stuff.

She was shown how to dice up onions, and actually given a very sharp knife to do just that after the demonstration. Then came adding the onions, bread crumbs, salt, pepper and spices to the bowl of already defrosted ground beef. Sasha actually kneaded all that together with her bare hands, finding the sensation kinda icky as her little fingers worked the raw ground beef yet, at the same time, finding an unusual contentment at truly being taught how to really cook.

One thing she noticed as an aside was that every cabinet and drawer, and even the refrigerator and freezer, had locks to them. 'Huh,' she wryly thought, 'not much chance of sneaking a midnight snack.' Then again, considering she was always locked away for the night in her cage, and in a locked room, too, Sasha didn't think she had to worry overmuch about late night munchie attack forays.

It didn't take too long to knead the mixture. But, as her Aunt explained, the ground beef had already been defrosted ahead of time. Something she'd have to consider, and plan for, in the future: allowing sufficient time ahead of time for defrosting. Small hands removed some of the now-kneaded hamburger mix, then patiently and carefully shaped two small patties. The cover of the Tupperware bowl was then replaced and the remainder stored back in the fridge as her Aunt directed.

The range was odd, she noticed. It wasn't gas, and it didn't look electric. The top was perfectly flat, and had four areas with concentric circles that resembled a bull-eye target. Those, she learned, were the heating areas. Somehow they never got searing hot to the touch but would still heat up a pot or pan. Aunt Samantha verbally directed Sasha through the next steps: lightly oiling the skillet before putting it on the range; slipping one patty in the skillet; readying the bun; shredding lettuce for the topping; slicing a thick piece of Monterey Jack - a favorite of Courtney's; cutting up onion into rings then putting them in the skillet to sauté along with the patty; getting a glass and adding ice before filling it with soda; checking the patty and flipping it; getting out a plate; putting two long slices of dill pickle on the plate and adding a heap of potato chips; carefully setting the cheese on top of the patty and watching, lifting the patty out with a spatula once the cheese started to melt; putting it on the bottom bun then adding the shredded lettuce and sautéed onions; then finally putting the top bun half on.

Throughout the entire 'ordeal' Aunt Samantha patiently explained each step, and Sasha either responded 'Yes Ma'am' or 'No Ma'am' each time when asked if she understood. It felt . . . odd, actually verbally replying, after having been forced to remain silent for days now. And it didn't feel too weird or awkward saying those two particular phrases. After all, up until this year that's how she always used to answer her Mom or other grownup women.

She couldn't help but wriggle in pleasure when Aunt Samantha complimented her for doing such a good job. Or salivate, either; she was getting quite hungry now herself, and the cheeseburger smelled simply heavenly! She couldn't forget there was one patty remaining, and tried not hoping too hard it was intended for her lunch!

Sasha put the plate and glass atop a small, oval chrome tray as directed to do, then put two napkins there as well. Then she carefully picked the laden tray up and started gingerly padding over to the dining table . . . and Courtney, who looked up from her papers as she caught motion out of the corner of her eye, then broke into a wide, delighted smile seeing her slave approaching.

Aunt Samantha had carefully explained what to do and, while she wasn't thrilled about it, neither was it awful to do. Just - as usual - demeaning and servile.

Placing the tray at Courtney's right side, Sasha carefully set the glass of soda on the table then the plate in front of her before slipping both napkins under the right side of the rim. Before she picked up the now-empty tray she softly asked, small, perfect white teeth slightly clenched together, "Does my Mistress require anything else?'

Courtney's eyes had been excitedly gleaming the entire time but, when Sasha said that, they sparkled and danced. They kept darting back and forth between her lunch and Sasha, as if she couldn't make up her mind which delighted her more. "No,' she finally said, sounding breathless, "No, this is just . . . perfect!' she finished in a breathless, airy whisper.

Picking the now-empty tray back up Sasha padded back to the kitchenette counter, silently fuming as she did. Of course Courtney would think this was ' just perfect', she seethed. Having Sasha wait on her hand and foot as if she were some sort of servant!

Or slave, that inner voice whispered.

Placing the tray back atop the counter Sasha headed back to the table, kneeling in Nadu at Courtney's side. Her tummy rumbled again as she grew increasingly more hungry, her appetite whetted by the aroma of food Sasha herself had just cooked and served. This was so demeaning, having to serve her like this! Except . . .

Except Sasha had been expecting - nay, demanding - this very thing from the both of them. Ever since she'd arrived. And, in fact, from her Mom, too. Sasha hadn't seen anything wrong in having her Aunt make and serve meals, or expecting Courtney to set the table before, and clean up after, meals. She'd been perfectly content having the two of them cater to her. And certainly had sneered and disdained to lift a finger to help either one with anything. Just as she'd been doing at home.

And it wasn't just meals either. Sasha scorned at helping in any way, and had been quite clever, and sometimes downright cruel and mean, at manipulating her little cousin into doing both of their assigned chores, enjoying a wicked, delighted pleasure at lording it over Courtney.

But Courtney wasn't viciously reveling in Sasha's helpless misery; she wasn't being hateful and cruel, crowing over her servitude. Far from it, in fact; Sasha couldn't forget - or ignore - her soft breathless sound of delight.

'No, this is just . . . perfect!'

Nor was Sasha immune to the effect of Courtney's reactions. Especially when she acted as if something as simple as having Sasha make and serve her lunch was like being unexpectedly crowned Miss Preteen USA or something.

Huh.

It was a bit more difficult to stay motionless this time as she knelt, as the floor was tile rather than carpet. But it wasn't too bad . . . so far, anyway. And Sasha didn't want to risk moving or doing anything that might wind up resulting in her missing lunch. So far she hadn't been punished by having meals withheld from her. Well, other then that one time; when Sasha had stubbornly refused to lap her food when it had been brought to her and it had then been taken away. So she tenaciously remained still, refusing to shift about and possibly be thought a weakling. In fact, although she wasn't consciously aware of it, she remained doggedly motionless more out of pride then fear of going hungry.

After what seemed like ages but really couldn't have been longer then ten minutes Courtney reached down and petted Sasha's head. "That tasted really good!' she exclaimed. "As good as Mom makes,' Courtney said, sounding very pleased.

Sasha's tiny, perfect white teeth gritted at the pets, but inside she felt a warm glow at the praise. Aunt Samantha might have been directing what Sasha had done, but Sasha really had made it all on her own. And she felt good inside knowing she'd done a good job at cooking, even if it was only a simple cheeseburger.

"Clean up now,' Courtney instructed her slave. Gritting her teeth again Sasha rose to her feet, then gathered up the empty glass and plate, placing the napkins on the dish first. She started to walk off but then paused first. Taking a very deep breath to control her emotions Sasha very sweetly asked, "Would my Mistress like more soda?' Sasha was very pleased at how normal her voice sounded, when what she really wanted to do at the moment was dump the melting ice and the plate on her little cousin's head. And then she froze, realizing she'd spoken aloud, but this time without being told she could speak.

However, neither Courtney nor her Aunt seemed upset or angry. Certainly Courtney seemed very pleased and delighted, wriggling like a puppy in her chair at that, gazing up at Sasha with enormously rounded, sparkling eyes. "Yes. Plea- . . . errr . . . ,' Courtney said, stumbling, automatically starting to politely ask as she'd been taught then looking flustered as she caught herself. Was it OK for a Mistress to politely phrase orders to their slave? she wondered. She didn't know, and hadn't ever thought to ask her Mom that.

She'd have to ask later but, for now, she didn't see any harm in that. "Yes, please,' she said.

Sasha, meanwhile, was a bit startled at the wording. Up to now, everything she'd been told to do had been unmistakably phrased as an order. "Uuuh,' Sasha stammered, a bit flustered herself. "Ummmm . . . Yes Mistress,' she blurted out, saying the first thing that came to mind, trying to cover up her confusion, then padded over to the counter.

She quickly recovered and regained her poise and composure. It really shouldn't have been all that surprising, she considered, having Courtney say 'please'. After all, so far Courtney had been mostly nice, except for the few times that Sasha had pushed the limits and rules. And it wasn't exactly as if she'd been giving an order, as much as replying to a question. Placing the dish and glass on the counter Sasha went to the refrigerator, removing the bottle of soda and refilling the glass before putting the bottle back. Maybe they really had meant what they'd said, she considered, about things getting nicer if Sasha just started properly behaving.

Walking the glass back Sasha pondered more on that. Was it really worth caving in, just to get treated better? she asked herself. She wasn't sure any more. She hated the idea of seeming weak and spineless, supinely surrendering just to get better treatment. Then again, she was getting nowhere fast by being stubborn, by beating her head against the proverbial brick wall. One thing she'd learned by now, and utterly accepted as fact, was that whatever rules were set, were set in stone. There was no bending them. No twisting or shifting them. And there were immediate consequences for violating them. She might not like the rules, or agree with them at all. But they were there, and no getting around them.

For the first time in almost a year Sasha was relearning what it was like to have real, solid rules again. And while she might not like them, deep inside there was a part of her finding real comfort and security in that. Just as every child did. And, just like every child, it would take years before Sasha would look back on these times and truly consciously understand the importance and security in having rules and limits.

"Thank you Twerp,' Courtney brightly said as Sasha set the glass down in front of her, and again Sasha was somewhat startled. But also a bit pleased, too, and her cheeks softly pinkened at Courtney's obviously sincere pleasure. They flushed a bit brighter, though, this time in shame, as she recalled how many times people had been thoughtful and nice to her, yet never a 'Thank you' had passed her lips.

Then it was back to the counter, where Sasha washed and cleaned up from making Courtney's lunch, with still no sign of hers anywhere. And it didn't seem as if a cheeseburger was in store for her, either, as Aunt Samantha had Sasha wrap up the remaining patty and put it away in the fridge. It didn't take very long to clean up, and Sasha finished by wiping down the dining table. Catching Aunt Samantha's nod, Sasha settled down at Courtney's side, kneeling there once done.

If, after all this, they gave her oatmeal again Sasha thought she'd throw a tantrum. But no sooner did she picture doing that than she also imagined the likely repercussions of doing so. At the very least she'd go hungry again, and possibly go back to plain, cold oatmeal. And that wasn't even taking into consideration what else might happen, and Sasha shivered a bit in memory of the punishment strap.

Kneeling as she was Sasha couldn't see her Aunt. She could hear her, though, moving around behind her, but hadn't a clue what she might be doing. Although she hoped it was making lunch for Sasha. One thing for sure, her pride (so far, anyway) wouldn't let Sasha beg for lunch. If that's what they expected her to do, then she'd rather go hungry and miss lunch!

She kept her eyes down as Aunt Samantha walked over. And kept them down even when Courtney shifted her chair about until she faced Sasha where she knelt. She only raised her eyes when Courtney murmured, "Kneel relaxed Twerp. And look at me.'

Sasha did relax, letting her taut muscles ease, and looked up as told. Courtney was gazing down at her, a soft expression on her face. There was a plate sitting on her lap, and abruptly Sasha started to salivate, hoping it was food.

It was. Courtney held up a small square of peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich to Sasha's lips, and she eagerly lipped it, quite famished. It wasn't a grilled cheese, no. Nor was it a cheeseburger. But it most certainly wasn't oatmeal, either!

Sasha didn't mind at all being hand fed this way. It didn't feel anywhere the same as when she'd been cuffed and caged, having to lip up pieces of grilled cheese while she lay on her tummy. But from Courtney's expression, feeding Sasha like this must feel the same to her as it had when she'd cage-fed Sasha before, for her eyes had that same wondrous, dreamy look to them.

One after another Sasha devoured the small, bite-sized pieces. Again, like before, Courtney didn't tease Sasha with the food. She didn't hold them just out of reach, or pull them away at the last minute. Instead, she patiently held each one at the ready, and simply placed them in Sasha's small mouth when she opened wide for the next. Sasha almost giggled, suddenly picturing herself like a baby bird opening her beak wide for food.

It didn't take long at all for her to wolf down the sandwich. It didn't completely fill her, but it did take the edge off her hunger and, if it didn't leave her sated, it did make her content. She could have eaten a second, but one was filling enough. Then Courtney handed her a glass - a real glass, and not a bottle or sippy cup! - of icy cold milk. Sasha paused before reaching for it, making sure she was supposed to actually take it, then happily drained the glass. Ooooh, it was so good! Licking her milk mustache with her tiny pink tonguetip Sasha handed the empty glass back to Courtney. She almost said 'Thank you', but reconsidered. She still, really, hadn't been told she could speak, other then during her cooking lessons, so she remained silent, although she smiled her gratitude to Courtney.

"Clean up,' Courtney then told her, "then meet me out at the lesson area.' At that she hopped up then purposefully strode out. Sasha's tummy fluttered a bit, wondering just what new lessons were in store for her.

Sasha stood there, a bit winded and breathless. Thankfully she'd only been bit gagged; she didn't think she could have done this with the other gags. This afternoon's lessons had started innocuously enough; Courtney simply put Sasha again through all the slave postures and positions she'd already been taught. That had been fairly easy, if a bit boring. Then again, Sasha thought, boring was also safe.

Next was a lesson in how to 'scamper'. Slaves, she was informed, did not walk; when they were summoned, or sent off on a task or errand, they scampered. Which consisted of rising up on the balls of her feet and taking short, rapid scurrying steps while still keeping her wrists crossed behind her back. Unless, of course, she was carrying something; in which case her arms couldn't, of course, be kept behind her back. The only time she wasn't to scamper, she was told, was if she was carrying something heavy, or something that might spill if she scurried.

Sasha felt extremely silly and foolish doing that. And even more so when Courtney clipped a lead line to her collar and had Sasha scamper about in a circle like a pony being lunged and exercised. It wasn't as easy as it sounded, especially when trying to keep her steps as short as she was supposed to do.

Taking shorter steps became both easier and harder when Aunt Samantha a short length of chain between her ankle cuffs. It also became scarier, too, for any misstep made her stumble. But that also send a shiver of excitement rippling through her, too, feeling the cuffs locked around her ankles and hobbling her.

Sasha practiced for fifteen minutes with her ankles chain hobbled, stumbling now and then until she finally started getting used to taking the shorter steps. She couldn't help feeling the tingles slowly grow inside her, not when she felt the cuffs securing her ankles with their hobbling chain. It felt so . . . weird, scurrying this way. Weird, silly and foolish. But it would be more foolish to complain, that she knew for certain.

By the time this practice was over Sasha needed a breather, and sighed with relief when the hobble chain finally was removed. She was even happier when the bit gag was removed, too; not that it was terrible, as it was the comfiest of all the gags. But, even so, it felt good to have it taken off.

When Courtney leash led Sasha over to the theater room Sasha almost groaned. Not polishing boots again, she mentally whined, sure that's what this was all about. Then tensed and shivered as she was led inside; first at seeing Aunt Samantha standing there, and then at what else she saw.

Coil after coil of gleaming white rope.

What looked like miles of rope. Rope, Sasha was sure, all of which was intended for her.

Sasha apprehensively swallowed, her mouth feeling abruptly dry, shifting back and forth on small bare feet. Then grew more nervous as Courtney simply plopped down in her chair with an eager, excited expression, her eyes dancing with anticipation.

"Come here,' Aunt Samantha said, motioning Sasha to stand in the middle of the room and face Courtney. Sasha nervously did so, her heart starting to pound. And her pulse - and tingles - only grew more intense as her Aunt first unlocked then removed the wrist and ankles cuffs . . .

. . . then picked up one coil and started tying her wrists together behind her back.

So far, Sasha hadn't yet been tied up. She'd been restrained, yes, but not bound. The closest she'd come to that had been the time she was strapped down on the Y-rack but, already, as she felt the soft, silky yet strong rope being wound around her wrists, she could sense a difference.

And obviously visibly physically reacted to that difference, too, for Courtney suddenly leaned forward and intently stared. "Oooooo!' she breathily cooed, gazing in wide-eyed, excited rapture at Sasha. Who abruptly furiously blushed all the way down her chest, knowing what Courtney had to be looking at, understanding what she was seeing. Sasha didn't even have to look down to know her nipples must already be tightly puckered, and already she could feel slickness growing between her legs.

She couldn't see what her Aunt was doing, but she could certainly feel it. Samantha expertly wrapped the rope five times around the little slave's small wrists, placing each turn snugly against the preceding one and making sure each criss-crossing of the rope passed over the gap between her wrists so that the lump of the criss-crossing wasn't pressing against skin or bone. The multiple turns weren't overly tight, in fact barely snug, but Sasha's heart kept thumping and her tummy was fluttering like it always did when she was being restrained.

At the very top of the fifth turn Samantha made an extra half-turn with one end, then passed each end sideways through Twerp's slender forearms. She drew them both down, then passed them between her facing palms, then back up again. She repeated that once more, making two cinching loops between Twerp's little wrists then pulled, snugly cinching before tying the knot at the top, between her forearms and far away from prying little fingers. Sasha gave a soft gasp as she felt the multiple loops unexpectedly grow taut, not expecting that. They weren't tight, exactly, but she sensed it would be very difficult, if not downright impossible, to wriggle her hands back out.

And there was still miles more of rope to go, too!

Courtney didn't say a word, just kept leaning forward and avidly staring at the proceedings. Samantha didn't say anything either; she just leaned down and picked up a second coil. And Sasha? She didn't dare make a peep. She just stood there, lightly trembling, tiny toes curling and wriggling against the soft pile of the carpet.

Samantha doubled this length in half before slipping it up behind the little slave's arms. Looping it several inches above her elbows she brought the doubled ends forwards, then back behind then back around in front again. Then started carefully, implacably, pulling Twerp's slender arms together. Sasha started trembling harder as she felt her arms inexorably growing closer and closer together. There wasn't any way she had of stopping that from happening. Even when she tensed and strained against her arms drawing closer, they still kept being pulled tighter together!

Samantha had a very good idea just how flexible Twerp was, especially after the measurement fitting that first afternoon. However, this afternoon wasn't going to be a short session, and what Twerp could endure for a short period of time wasn't the same as for a lengthier duration. Especially when it came to having one's arms pulled together behind one's back. So she didn't excessively compress them, stopping short of the maximum they could be drawn together. Once she'd reached where Twerp's upper and lower arms were straight, Samantha tied the double ropes in front, making a square knot.

There were now six turns of rope wrapped around Twerp's arms, a wide enough band to evenly distribute the pressure of the bindings so that they didn't pinch or bite. And while they were snug, they weren't so tight that Twerp couldn't tense her arms and draw them closer together, allowing the ropes to slide down if she did that. Which certainly wouldn't do at all.

Sasha, in the meantime, was growing increasingly more apprehensive, her arousal intensifying in direct proportion. She looked imploringly at Courtney. But Courtney never noticed, she remained avidly staring at the proceedings in wide-eyed, excited wonder.

Taking another length of rope Samantha doubled this one, too, slipping it up underneath Twerp's bound arms. This one she brought around her body, just underneath the armpits, and tied a firm knot in front before passing two ropes over each small shoulder. One of each pair she brought down to the elbow ropes, close to the inside of her arms, looping them twice around the elbow ropes before tying them off. Now, even if Twerp somehow managed to press her arms together until her elbows actually did touch together, the elbow ropes would never slide down.

The remaining two served a different purpose: Samantha carefully, and very tightly, tied a pair of solid metal rings to them, so the rings sat roughly between Twerp's shoulder blades. She then picked up two more long lengths of rope and continued binding the little slave. The first was wound firmly around her upper body and arms, eight turns in all, just above nascent breasts, while the lower was wound, eight turns, too, just below those firm little swells. Samantha then added more rope, guiding those two lengths between Twerp's back and arms, weaving them around the upper and lower sets of bindings and using them to cinch the ropes even snugger.

Sasha couldn't help the sporadic whimpers that escaped her lips. It felt as if her entire upper body was being hugged in an overall embrace, and her arms felt encased in a solid band of rope. She couldn't shift her arms at all, not even a little bit; they were locked solidly to and against her body, and all she could move were her hands and fingers. Well, her fingers, anyway; her hands couldn't really do more then twist a little.

Nor could she help the tingling that was inexorably spreading throughout her, like smoldering coals being fanned into a conflagration. If her pussy had felt a little slick before, it certainly was very slippery now; Sasha could feel tiny threads starting to trickle downwards, and her nipples felt incredibly tight and hard. She looked beseechingly at Courtney again, but literally jerked at what she saw. For Courtney seemed entranced, her huge gray eyes looking almost all pupil, leaning forwards in her chair and staring in wide-eyed, captivated fascination. Sasha swallowed hard, noticing something else, too: Courtney was also, barely perceptively, rhythmically pressing her little legs together. She probably wasn't even aware she was doing it, Sasha woefully realized, but Sasha certainly knew what that meant! And that also meant there was no hope for salvation from that quarter! Not if watching Sasha being bound was actually turning Courtney on!

And since Sasha was Courtney's slave, there was no hope of succor from Aunt Samantha. She'd already made it plain that she didn't interfere with another Mistress' slave, so unless Courtney decided to be merciful - and at the moment that didn't seem at all likely - Sasha was going to find herself bound even further!

Picking up another coil of rope Samantha started looping this one snugly around Twerp's mid-thighs, making eight full turns before, once again, making two cinching passes between. This knot she tied at the back, at the gap between pressed together legs, then another metal ring was tied there.

Sasha sensed the ropes could have been drawn tighter than they had been, and part of her was grateful that they weren't, part of her was puzzled and curious that they hadn't been . . .

And part of her shivered in apprehension, sure there was a reason for that.

She was right, too.

"I'm going to help you down,' Samantha murmured to her. "I need you on your belly for the rest.' Her mouth feeling dry even as her entire body was thrumming with tingles Sasha nodded. It was awkward getting down to her knees, and even more so all the way down to her tummy. She probably could have done it on her own, she thought, but it wouldn't have been very easy at all, and she might even have painfully fallen trying to do it. However, with her Aunt's help it was a fairly easy maneuver down, and very soon she was fully stretched out.

It felt rather weird laying full out of her tummy this way, and Sasha instinctively went to shift her arms . . . and couldn't. All she could was lay there, her nose in the carpet. And that was a very odd feeling indeed. She finally tipped her head, resting her cheek on the soft pile, even as she felt Aunt Samantha pick her little feet up and start tying them.

Samantha carefully wound six loops around Twerp's ankles, exactly as she'd done for her wrists, including both cinch turns, then firmly snugged the bindings down before tying a knot between and at the front of her ankles, where it would be more difficult to reach with her fingers. She didn't miss the gentle tremors that raced through the little body she was binding, and her lips curved in a smile that would have made Sasha tremble all the harder had she seen it.

She tied a ring to the backs of Twerp's bound ankles, then added a single, ten foot length of rope to the ring, for later. She then moved on to the legs, binding Twerp above and below the knees with two more pieces, each of those multiple windings of five turns with a double cinching pass. Again, like the binding at mid-thigh, Sasha felt that these were looser then they could be, and she wondered why that was so. Then squeaked as her Aunt simply rolled her onto her back, as if she were a parcel, and watched with huge eyes as a single, six foot long length of rope was tied to the front of the upper knee bonds.

She squeaked again when rolled back onto her tummy, then shivered as her Aunt patted her bare rump. Aunt Samantha didn't say a word, simply fondled her butt for several seconds before rising and departing.

Leaving her alone with Courtney. Which wasn't necessarily a good thing!