Sasha growled as she drummed bound little heels together on the carpet. She'd managed to wriggle and squirm until she was sitting up and then had been, with increasing fervor, straining to get her arms unbound. Regardless of her earlier vow, Sasha no longer cared if she was amusing Courtney by struggling.

Now, it wasn't as if being tied this way was badly hurting (now that she wasn't brutally hogtied), because it wasn't. Rather the exact opposite, in fact, something that Sasha was clearly aware of. Nipples were so tight they ached, and inner thighs and pussy were slick and slippery. The ropes binding her, and the utter immobility as that result, only exacerbated the tingles and throbs.

But being unable to move even though unsecured to anything was driving her crazy. There was something about not being bound to something yet still being helplessly restrained that, in some unfathomable manner, simply goaded a desire to struggle. Being tightly strapped down to the Y-rack somehow didn't fuel the same frenzied need to move about that simply being tied up was inciting.

She wanted to be free of these restrictive, confining ropes . . . yet somehow she didn't. She wanted Courtney to pay 'attention' to her . . . but didn't. She wanted . . . oh, she didn't know what she wanted! Her emotions, desires and needs were equally diametrically opposed. And she kept flickering back and forth from each extreme like a laser bouncing back and forth between its mirrors.

And like a laser, her inner turmoil and arousal kept increasing; amplifying and growing. And as long as she was fighting --not just the ropes but also the feelings being bound elicited, created and enhanced-- there wasn't any respite. She hadn't any means of gaining a calm, collected moment to recover her composure, thus enabling an attempt, no matter how feeble, at reasoning things out.

It had been a while since Courtney had released Sasha from that dreadful hogtie and, since then, Courtney hadn't said or done a blessed thing to her. In fact, she seemed so completely engrossed in whatever it was she was doing that she was completely ignoring Sasha. Glancing over her shoulder Sasha peeked at Courtney who, as far as Sasha could tell, was still deep into whatever magazine she was reading. Probably one of her Neopets or Mary-Kate and Ashley magazines.

Grunting again with effort Sasha strained once more to draw elbows closer together. She'd discovered, first by accident and later by experimentation, that by doing so the tension of the ropes binding her elbows loosened. But, loose or not, no matter what Sasha tried she just couldn't get those damned ropes to fall or slither down! Panting with effort, little nostrils flaring, Sasha growled again as she once more, frustrated, thumped the floor with her heels.

Then jerked, feeling wetness hit her chest again. She couldn't see them, but she sure could feel the thick, sticky strands of her saliva as she drooled past that horrid gag and down her chin and onto her chest. Just another thing to frustrate her!

Embarrass her, too. Sasha didn't like the fact that most of the gags used on her made her helplessly drool like a little baby. It didn't matter to her that neither her aunt nor little cousin seemed to find gag-slobbering something to deride, mock, ridicule and belittle Sasha for doing --in fact, both actually seemed to like it when Sasha helplessly drooled; go figure-- but just because they didn't seem to mind didn't mean that Sasha didn't mind, too!

Resting for a bit Sasha unthinkingly started rhythmically tightening and relaxing little thighs, squeezing and pressing them together as she debated what to try next. Should she even keep trying? Or just give up and strive finding the most comfortable position she could to wait this out?

Unfortunately for Sasha, Courtney had plans for her little slave, and they didn't include just sitting or lying on the floor like a bump on a log. Sasha had a fleeting moment to notice, out of the corner of an eye, Courtney hopping up out of her chair before, with a gag-muffled squeal of startled outrage, she found herself being pushed down on the floor and rolled onto her tummy.

Quietly humming to herself Courtney once again threaded the long ankle rope back and forth through the back-of-thighs and back-of-ankles rings. Twerp pathetically whined sensing that happening, fully aware of what that presaged. She whined again at feeling those ropes tightening, at feeling her ankles begin being pulled upwards again but, this time, she didn't fight or resist. Not because she was looking forward to being hogtied again, but because she'd already learned she couldn't fight this and couldn't see any reason for pointless defiance.

Much too soon for comfort or happiness Sasha's bound ankles were tightly pressed and secured to the back of small thighs, little heels against pert bottom. Already she felt muscles quivering and complaining, but they --like her-- were just going to have to deal with the stress.

'Oh gawd no!' Sasha mentally implored, feeling Courtney next fumbling at Sasha's back. 'Not my shoulders and back again too!'

Once again, the deities seemed deaf to Sasha's pleas for Courtney was, indeed, starting to pull her little slave back into an arch. For whatever reason though --and Sasha hadn't a clue why-- Courtney didn't arch Sasha back anywhere near as far as she had that first time. This time only Sasha's knees and a bit of her chest were forcibly lifted up off the carpeted floor.

Before Courtney returned to her project she intended to have a bit of fun with her slave once she'd re-bound her, and that's exactly what she did. A huge grin lit her face at her little slave's muffled indignant squeals and squeaks as Courtney started rolling her back and forth. Onto her left side, then back to her tummy, then her right side, then back again. Over and over.

This was so easy! Courtney exulted. And it was, too. With a bit of effort (and not much of that to be accurate) Courtney could just rock her slave back and forth, back and forth, and she delighted and thrilled in the physical power and control she had over Twerp.

Courtney finally stopped, leaving Twerp on her side, her slave's tummy facing Courtney's chair. Still hugely grinning Courtney reached down and lightly rubbed Twerp's taut tummy. Then patted it, so gently, just as if she were pussy petting her slave. That wasn't gonna happen this time, of course. This afternoon wasn't about pussy petting, or Twerp getting nice feelings.

This afternoon was all about Courtney. Twerp's Mistress. And what Courtney wanted.

Courtney gave Twerp a final tummy pat and then started to get up off her knees and back to her project. But suddenly she stopped, a wicked fiendish grin spreading across her face.

*ppt*

Twerp squealed as Courtney landed a light yet still stinging cupped-hand pop to her tummy, one sharp enough to leave the faintest pink of palm prints behind.

*ppt* *ppt*

Wriggling on little knees Courtney commenced enthusiastically giving Twerp, with great delight and malicious intent, a very thorough dose of that scourge of playgrounds everywhere: the dreaded pink belly.

Now, Sasha was no stranger to pink bellies. Granted, she hadn't had one in years, not since she'd been a little kid in second grade. And she'd been quite indignant then, too, at having four of her classmates wrestle her down and onto her back, each one tightly gripping and holding Sasha's arms and legs down while a fifth tugged Sasha's shirt up to bare her tummy. Sasha had bucked and thrashed, jerked and fought, but with four of them holding her down she couldn't do a thing to stop the fifth from gleefully tummy-spanking her, not stopping until Sasha was weeping with frustration and humiliation, her entire tummy a bright pink.

Sasha had only been the recipient of a couple of pink belly attacks before she'd stopped becoming a target, mostly because she'd stalked each one that had participated and slugged them. With her fist. Several times. Hard.

She indignantly squawked and squealed as Courtney just continued landing spank-pat after spank-pat. But even through her indignation Sasha couldn't help feeling a sudden, very extreme sense of helplessness. It had taken four kids Sasha's own age and size to hold her down. Yet with no visible effort or strain her little cousin --younger, smaller and nowhere near as strong as Sasha-- was in more absolute control of Sasha than four of her own peers had ever been.

For several long minutes Courtney continued, only stopping once her slave's entire tummy was a very bright, hot pink, and Courtney's own tiny palm felt stinging. Still with an earsplitting grin Courtney hopped up, then merrily skipped over to her chair, plopping down and settling her lap desk in place again. Enthusiastically returning to her project, she softly giggled to herself. 'Wait'll Twerp finds out about this!' she gleefully thought.

The reaction of most people upon meeting Courtney in passing the first time was virtually universal: either 'Awwww, cute!' in the event of an adult male, and 'What a beautiful child!' if an adult female. Kids reactions? Well, Courtney wasn't exactly shy and self-effacing, but neither was she outspoken and boisterous. Meeting her for the first time usually kids paid her little to no attention.

That subtly changed if the encounter was lengthier. The majority of men simply dismissed her as a 'cute kid' and pretty much ignored her after that. The minute remainder either would admiringly gaze at her, in awe of the wealth of shimmering, thick, mid-back length hair or her striking sea-grey eyes surrounded by long, pale sooty-tipped lashes (which Samantha indulgently understood and accepted) or gazed at her with more speculative, appraising looks (which Samantha did not tolerantly accept, and mentally filed them away under a quite unflattering category). The majority of women reacted much the same as the men did, while their modest remnant would contemplatively gaze at Courtney, either in understanding envy at her appearance and charm, or in the nascent smoldering beginnings of jealously and competition.

And the children?

Like all kids her age, she was virtually ignored by those older than herself, and either enthusiastically or hesitantly chatted up by those her own age.

Things drastically changed, however, after a significant, lengthier time. Courtney might otherwise be unassuming, but she also didn't do anything to hide any aspect of herself. And it didn't take very long at all for people to start realizing what a frightening intelligence Courtney had.

Precocious. Bright. Gifted. Talented. Those were the kinder adjectives used.

Bookworm. Teacher's pet. Brainiac. Freak. Geek. Nerd. Some weren't kind at all.

By this year --third grade-- Courtney was already reading and comprehending at an eight-grade level. She had a voracious appetite to learn, and once she had her mind set on learning about something, she was more dogged and tenacious than a pit bull.

Which didn't endear her to her peers. Which was OK with Courtney. She had her Mom, and her books and studies. She had her gymnastics and equitation lessons for exercise and fun. What more did she really need?

Courtney seldom, if ever, did things by halves. If it was worth doing, she believed, it was worth doing well. Sasha was well aware of that fact, and up until this year would have just teasingly rolled her eyes while inside feeling both proud and envious of her little cousin. This year, however . . .

This year, like she had everything else, Sasha had done nothing but demean, snipe, nag and criticize Courtney. For her reading, studying . . . anything and everything. Even so, Sasha couldn't truly forget or disregard her little cousin's frightening intellect and resolute dedication to anything that interested her.

That was, in no small part, one of the reasons her tummy had headed south earlier. During lunch, when Aunt Samantha had explained to Sasha about Courtney studying so hard, learning what was required to be a real Mistress. Sasha had only to glance at Courtney sitting at the table and see that fierce expression of complete focus to understand her little cousin was in 'learn-mode'. She only got that way about something that really interested and fascinated her. And when that happened, there was no stopping Courtney once the bit was in her teeth and she got started.

Which made what happened next truly frightening.

Courtney only left Twerp in that hogtie for five minutes, just like before. And, like before --even though the hogtie wasn't as severe-- after five minutes Twerp was piteously whining, staring pathetically hopeful up at Courtney with enormous, pleading eyes.

The rule about speaking --making any noise, actually-- had been made drastically, unmistakably clear: gagged or not, Sasha wasn't to speak, or make any attempt at talking or making sounds, at all. And while under normal circumstances (as if anything about the last four days could be considered normal) Sasha wouldn't have dared breaking that rule . . . this wasn't a normal circumstance. Every muscle in her body thrummed and vibrated, aching and sore with strain and stress. Ached and throbbed past the point of acute discomfort.

Any pride, dignity or conceit she might have still harbored had vanished, and she whined, whimpered and mewled, desperately trying to get Courtney's attention, striving to break through the fierce concentration her little cousin was focusing on whatever it was she was doing.

She even tried wriggling and squirming closer, braving possible displeasure and punishment. Anything to be untied from that awful hogtie!

So, this time she didn't miss seeing what it was Courtney was looking at when she finally looked down at Sasha on the floor before her, and Sasha's blood turned to ice, bowels to water, skin to translucent alabaster as she finally saw what was fascinating Courtney so.

Yesterday afternoon Courtney had asked her mom a perfectly logical question: How could she decide what sort of fun to have with her slave, when she didn't know what all was possible?

Perfectly logical, perfectly understandable.

Courtney was saying, Samantha realized, in effect, that she hadn't a clue about sexuality. Except for the little that Samantha had already shown and explained, and her daughter was sharp enough to understand that that was only the tip of the iceberg so to speak.

All things considered, Courtney was being incredibly patient, too. Samantha gave her question all the attention and consideration it deserved, and very shortly came up with what she thought would be the most ideal solution.

Courtney wanted to learn more about the possibilities? Well, Samantha had a wealth of resource material available. Right downstairs, as a matter of fact. So, starting that afternoon and working on and off throughout that day and the next morning, Samantha carefully sorted through her various magazines, of which she had collected throughout the years over a hundred. Some were extremely mild: "Love Bondage" ones. Some were more 'artistic', namely the Japanese bondage ones. And some were, well, to be quite blunt, extremely graphic.

With very few exceptions, all were lesbian oriented. Samantha wasn't at all interested in seeing men in bondage, and was even less interested in seeing males in the power position. But that only meant the graphic ones were more . . . interesting.

At least to her, she grinned.

So there would be no magazines, no photos or illustrations, of a Mistress taking her slave with a strap-on. None of a slave pleasuring her Mistress with a double-dildo gag (although the sudden image of Twerp's horrified expression as she was gagged with one made Samantha's belly knot up and pussy throb like few things --if any-- ever had before).

Even so, that did leave a tremendous amount remaining for Courtney to peruse.

Samantha didn't give any special instructions to Courtney on how best to utilize that material either, accepting that her daughter would be more than capable of handing matters herself, in her own inimitable fashion.

And indeed, upon being told of having that resource material available to her today, had come up with a splendid plan all on her own. What made that plan even more grand was that her slave had finally decided to behave this morning, and so could be included as part of her project!

While Twerp had been caged that morning, Courtney had prepared the theatre room for her studies. First she'd dragged two small end tables over to her chair --she giggled at times looking at that chair; because of its location in the room and because of how Twerp was positioned before Courtney when she sat in it, she'd started thinking of it as 'The Throne'-- placing them on either side. Atop one she perched all the magazines mom had loaned to her. The other she left open, for placing drinks and snacks later on, and also for putting the magazines she was finished looking through.

Bringing her lap desk down she'd sat it on the chair, then made sure she had a new, blank note pad for recording comments, remarks and questions. She'd also borrowed from mom four different colored Post-It page markers: red, yellow, green and orange. Each one would have a special meaning.

And so, after mom had done that way cool job of tying Twerp up for Courtney, and after Courtney had had such fun pump gagging her slave, she got down to business.

Picking up the first magazine she started off first by slowly, one page at a time, looking at each and every one of the photos. Then she went back to the beginning, searching for the ones that had seemed intriguing, fascinating and fun. If there was a story that went with the photos she either briefly scanned, or more thoroughly read them, depending upon her interest. Positions or situations Courtney was determined to enjoy with her slave she tagged with a green tag. Ones she wasn't sure of but wanted to learn more about she marked with yellow, while those that made her go 'Ick!' were marked with red.

No matter what color she tagged them, each and every one was neatly scribed in her note pad. Courtney recorded the name of the magazine, the page number, and her thoughts about the photo and/or situation, as well as explained why she chose the color she had.

She was so focused on her project that she really did miss out enjoying her slave being so tightly tied up. Part of her just wanted to stare and grin. But that wouldn't get her project done, and she really wanted to see all the stuff that was possible to do!

Having checked with her mom first, Courtney had decided on a cycle of twenty minutes being tied outstretched and relaxed (if that could be called relaxing) alternating with five minutes being severely hogtied. Which did give her opportunities to play with her slave, and she certainly had done just that!

Gagging Twerp had been such fun! Especially with that pump gag! Even though Twerp had freaked out at one point; why, Courtney didn't know or understand. Courtney was simply enamored of gags; she didn't know why she was and, in the fashion of a child, she never thought to even question why. She simply, unconsciously accepted that as 'right'. And so had hogtying her. Way cool!

Of course, neither of those had come without a price. The pump gag was something, mom had explained, that could very easily be overdone and hurt. So of course Courtney needed to be shown not only how it was used, but also how it felt. And then there was the matter of the hogtie: that, too, could be overdone, and would definitely be painful after just a short time. Plus the tightening ropes had to be placed and threaded a certain way, and they didn't exactly have another model for mom to show Courtney how they went . . .

Except for using Courtney herself, that is.

So, last evening, after caging Twerp for the night and after Courtney's bath, she found herself laying tummy down on a towel on the living room floor in her birthday suit as mom bound her the same way as she would Twerp the next day. It had been so difficult for Courtney to just lay still, and she'd lightly shivered feeling more and more of her body being snugly bound and restrained. And then came the gag.

Even now that memory made Courtney swallow hard, recalling the icky taste of that thick rubber balloon going into her mouth, the feel of the leather straps being buckled about her face and head. Listening to mom explain how it worked, showing her the inflation needle, explaining where it went even as she'd slipped it through the valve and then started inflating the gag.

Oh yes, Courtney knew exactly how Twerp felt when her gag was inflated!

Then came time for the hogtie, and mom had set up a video camera to record the process. As she'd threaded the ropes she'd kept up a running monologue instruction, explaining where the rope each time, how to draw it tight, how to secure it . . .

Courtney had whimpered and groaned as her little naked body had bent and arched, as her muscles had started to quiver and vibrate with strain. There wasn't any doubt, not the least little smidgeon, that she wasn't getting out of this until and unless mom untied her! Nor mistaking that any pleading couldn't be heard, let alone understood!

Mom had propped her chest up on a throw pillow, pointing her at the TV, then walked off, leaving Courtney alone to watch the replay of her being hogtied, and if her little jaw hadn't been strapped secure by the gag it would have dropped wide open. Ohmahgawd!

It had felt so . . . weird . . . lying on the floor, naked, hogtied and gagged like that. Somewhat embarrassing, and most definitely helpless feeling. It didn't feel exactly the same as when she had Twerp tied up; that feeling Courtney positively delighted in. But it didn't feel exactly bad, either.

The actual position felt awful, of course, but not the fact that she was bound and gagged. And mom hadn't left her hogtied long. Just for five minutes, although 'just' was waaaaaay too mild a term for that! It had felt squirmy-scary being left alone like that, knowing she was totally helpless and couldn't even yell for mom if she needed. But at the same time she felt oddly . . . safe; utterly dependant on her mom for everything at that point, true, which in an odd way made her feel safe and secure. And she knew mom wouldn't do anything that would hurt her.

After the five minutes were up mom had come back inside and released her from that tight hogtie. Courtney had groaned and whined as the ropes were loosened. She just couldn't help doing that! Then had gotten very wide-eyed when mom, instead of untying Courtney the rest of the way, had simply lifted her up and cuddled her still naked, bound and gagged on her lap while she replayed the tape for the two of them several times until, at last, Courtney had nodded that yes, she was sure she could do it on her own.

At that point Courtney had expected to be ungagged and untied, so she hadn't been surprised when mom had first deflated the gag then unbuckled and removed it. One reason Courtney had helpfully coached Twerp to swallow had been because Courtney had learned first hand what it had felt like when the gag had been deflated.

Not that swallowing had helped Courtney much, for when mom had finally slid the gag out Courtney had turned beet red as she wound up soaking her bare chest with spit. She'd blushed even hotter at mom's expression; although Samantha hadn't smiled, per se, her eyes had twinkled a little as she tenderly blotted her daughter's chest, chin and throat dry.

The night wasn't yet over though, it had seemed, for no sooner has Samantha ungagged and dried her daughter off then she'd held a small ball gag up to her lips. Courtney had stared at her mom with enormous eyes at that, and couldn't help but fidget-squirm in her bonds. Swallowing hard Courtney had opened her mouth, and deeply shivered as the ball was inserted, a little nervous appealing whine as it was buckled secure.

Mom hadn't said anything beforehand about this happening! Courtney had no idea why it was, or for what, or even for how long. And, of course, gagged once more she had no way of asking any of that, either!

Samantha had simply lifted her daughter up, cradled her to her chest then carried her to Samantha's bedroom, laying her down on the bed before going to the bathroom to change and get ready for bed herself. Still without a word of explanation Samantha turned out the bedroom lights then simply curled up next to her daughter, cuddling her naked, bound and gagged body to hers.

At first Courtney had been nervous and a bit frightened. Did mom intend her to stay like this all night? It wasn't as if it hurt. But it was very uncomfortable, and terribly confining. But as time passed, although it remained too uncomfortable for her to really start falling asleep, Courtney did relax, feeling a very odd sense of peace, security and safety.

Samantha hadn't kept her daughter bound and gagged all night. Just for an hour, then released her from both. Then she snuggled Courtney to her and, within moments, Courtney had drifted into a deep sleep.

Courtney had reviewed the tape again the next day after having caged Twerp, wanting to make sure she'd gotten things down pat. It sure felt weird seeing herself in that video, naked on the floor and all tightly bound and gagged! It made her tummy feel fluttery inside. Neither good nor bad; actually, Courtney couldn't put a finger on exactly how it made her feel. Kinda like tying Twerp up, but not the same and not as nice.

The rehearsal and studying had paid off: hogtying Twerp had gone without a hitch. In fact, it had been incredibly easy --and very exciting!-- to do! Even with Twerp resisting which, bound as she had been, hadn't been a great deal. And the second time had been easier yet because Twerp seemed resigned to her fate.

This was the second round of being bound then hogtied, and Courtney --ignoring any sounds her slave was making-- had just glanced at her watch to see how much longer was left to the five minutes when she heard Twerp make a much different sound. Blinking Courtney leaned forward and gazed down at her slave, and was quite startled at her expression and complexion. The only other time Twerp had looked so was when Courtney had caught her disobeying Saturday after her morning bath and had realized she was in for a punishment strapping.

Whatever could be affecting her this time like that? Courtney wondered.

And then a huge grin spread across Courtney's face as she figured it out. Holding up her current magazine where Twerp could clearly see it she was delighted at her slave's reaction: deep shudders and muffled whines. Courtney grinned even wider at that, her tummy tingly at the sounds and expressions of her slave.

"Wanna see?" Courtney merrily chirped, setting her lap desk to the side before sliding out of her chair. Twerp looked like she was trying to sink into the floor, or at the very least cringe back and away. Hogtied as she was, there was no hope of escape for her. Padding over in tiny socked feet Courtney settled to her knees at Twerp's head.

"Lookit," she said, opening up the magazine and showing Twerp the one photo. This magazine was about Japanese bondage, and the woman in that photo was tightly bound with hemp rope, limbs and body contorted in strained agonizing position. "Lookit these, too," Courtney enthused, showing several more photos, again all using hemp rope, this time with the woman in various suspension poses. One rather resembled Twerp's current hogtie, save the woman was a good six feet up in the air, and posed so her head was slanted and angled towards the floor. There were also many colorful plastic clothespins all over her body, including two bigger ones fastened to her nipples, large lead fishing weights dangling from them.

Tapping the photo with a tiny fingertip Courtney took care to indicate the nipple ones. "Boy . . . sure looks like they hurt, huh?" she seemingly emphasized, and grinned as Twerp paled even more, whining and pathetically pleading with her eyes.

"Wanna see more?" Courtney asked, rising to her feet and padding over to her chair. Several more despairing whines issued behind her, which Courtney just ignored.

Other than to merrily grin even bigger, that is!

Crouching again Courtney held out another, more slender magazine. "You kept gloating how you'd get your bellybutton pierced this summer. 'Member?" Courtney stated. Twerp's head jerked in tiny nods, heart fiercely hammering. "Whatdja think of this then?" Courtney asked, extending the magazine, holding it out where Twerp could see the opened pages, both sides showing close-ups of various styles of pierced nipple jewelry . . . which went without saying it also showed the pierced nipples themselves.

Sasha recoiled --well, as best as one can when tightly hogtied, anyway-- her eyes suddenly huge as saucers, face pale as milk, freckles standing out like pollen dusted across the surface of rich cream. Courtney ignored all that; ignored the frightened whines as well. Instead, she just kept an eagle-eye look at Twerp's body.

"Uh-huh. That's what I thought," was all she said before getting back up and walking over to her chair. She jotted a couple of notes then changed the color of the page marker from yellow to orange. Courtney knew there was no way she could have Twerp's nipples pierced. For one thing, just the thought of doing that to Twerp made Courtney's tummy feel fluttery-queasy inside. For another, that'd be pretty hard, if not outright impossible, to hide that that had been done.

Not that Twerp needed to know Courtney's thoughts about that. It was much more fun to keep her slave guessing, wondering if Courtney would actually do that. Because if Courtney did decide that . . .

Well, by now Twerp had learned if Courtney wanted something, or wanted to do something, she got it or it got done. End of story.

While she sorted through the magazines Courtney did ponder reconsidering her decision about the bellybutton piercing. Going ahead and having that done against her mom's orders would certainly have been a Sasha thing to do, and so most likely wouldn't come under suspicion. And the thought of doing something so . . . physical . . . like that was feeling quite intriguing to Courtney now.

If anything Sasha's heart was now thudding so hard she was surprised it wasn't exploding. Ever since 'The Discovery' and the ensuing subsequent sentence, Sasha had held onto three things as a wellspring of hope:

1) That Courtney wouldn't take things seriously.

2) That she would only look at this as an involved game, and would grow tired of it quickly.

3) And that her little cousin really didn't know much at all, hardly anything. Unlike Aunt Samantha, who by now Sasha held a healthy respect.

Number one hadn't lasted beyond that first night. After all that had happened that first day, ending up being caged all night long, Sasha had realized that Courtney was, indeed, taking this unfair, outré and unreasonable punishment far too seriously.

Halfway through day four (has it only been four days? Sasha distantly wondered as her mind chaotically churned with more critical concerns) and Courtney, rather than gradually tiring, if anything seemed to be growing even more energetic and enthused. Which completely quashed any hope of number two.

And as for number three . . .

Perhaps Courtney had been as pure as the driven snow, innocent and inexperienced with regards to certain matters. But if she had been, she certainly was rectifying matters even as Sasha helplessly, horrifyingly watched.

Although she hadn't looked through every magazine, booklet and publication in this room, Sasha certainly had looked through enough to comprehend what information they contained. Her last hope of refuge and asylum had rested in the knowledge Courtney didn't know a lot. And what she wasn't aware of, she couldn't choose to do or have done.

But that last protective barrier was being breached even as she helplessly watched, unable to do a thing about the doom unfolding before her very eyes. Courtney was getting quite the education this afternoon, and Sasha chillingly recognized the fierce hungry expression her little cousin had. And even if she had somehow, by some impossible means, overlooked Courtney's expression, she certainly couldn't have missed the methodical precise way Courtney was conducting her research.

And that was the best word Sasha could think of to describe the fate before her: research.

Not study. Not education. Not instruction or edification. Oh, all of those words did fit, of course, and a germ of each did exist. But what Courtney was really doing was research: the collecting of information about a particular subject. To wit, namely slaves, and the fun a Mistress can have with their own.

Merriam-Webster described it best, even if the explanation was a bit clinical: careful or diligent search; studious inquiry or examination; especially : investigation or experimentation aimed at the discovery and interpretation of facts, revision of accepted theories or laws in the light of new facts, or practical application of such new or revised theories or laws. But what Courtney was doing was anything but dispassionate and clinical!

Courtney started to select another magazine when she paused, then glanced at her watch. 'Darn,' she thought, realizing Twerp had been hogtied almost ten minutes now instead of the five maximum she'd intended. Glancing at her slave Courtney stifled a giggle. Twerp sure didn't seem as if the hogtie was bothering her as much as the revelation of Courtney's ongoing research project was!

In fact, Twerp seemed deeply shocked and stunned, her expression looking full of resigned hopeless dread and despair. Much like a skier at the bottom of a steep slope might look, gazing up and seeing the entire side of the mountain detach and start inexorably, inescapably thundering down upon them.

Still and all, Courtney thought, she really should give Twerp a break. Especially since Courtney still had the rest of the afternoon to keep her bound and gagged.

So setting the magazine back down Courtney padded over to Twerp, crouching down and rolling her slave onto her tummy, ignoring her squeals. Tugging at the knots and release rings Courtney --more quickly this time than her first effort-- freed Twerp from the arched hogtie, letting her stretch back out again. Courtney ignored the muffled heartfelt grunts and groans of relief as completely as she had the squeals and whines of discomfort and dismay.

As soon as she'd finished Courtney straightened up and returned to her chair, settling the lap desk back in place and returning to her project. This time she frequently glanced down at Twerp as she perused and studied the magazines, and oh how her eyes merrily sparkled at Twerp's expression of woe and dismay!

Sasha barely noticed being released from the hogtie, still deeply stunned and shocked and no little afraid. Courtney had already proven to be more creative and imaginative than Sasha would have credited her for. And that was with her being naïve and immature. Courtney armed with an entire arsenal of information, and the functional armory of a dungeon playroom simply didn't bear thinking!

Courtney's familiarity and know-how --purely theoretical up to now-- was increasing by leaps and bounds. And very shortly, Sasha swallowed in understanding, that academic awareness was going to become practical expertise and experience. For the both of them!

Sasha couldn't help but shudder. It wasn't exactly from horror or terror (although there was a touch of each). Rather more like queasy, helpless despair. She'd started feeling like that ever since Friday, and 'The Discovery', feeling like the ground beneath her feet had suddenly lurched and tilted, leaving her at the top of a very steep incline whose slippery slick slope ended at a nameless yawning abyss. And as the days had passed that sensation intensified, feeling as if she'd been helplessly scrabbling for a secure foothold, seeking any means to prevent slipping any further downwards even as her downwards slide rapidly accelerated.

Seeing Courtney's intense zealous studying simply hastened that feeling. No longer scrabbling, no longer frantically groping for a toehold, for anything that would keep her from descending further, for now that surface beneath her had turned to glass. Mirrored, polished oiled glass. And Sasha was no longer simply slithering helplessly downwards. Now she was flying down that incline, clutching for anything to brake her descent and finding nothing, flying out over that cavernous chasm . . .

It wasn't quite as dire as Sasha suspected and feared. For she had no idea that Samantha had carefully selected the magazines for Courtney to peruse and study. But she didn't --and couldn't-- know that. And Sasha, unlike her little cousin, hadn't had the magazines she'd looked at during her explorations carefully selected. And she'd looked through a lot of them.

So Sasha had no way of knowing Courtney wasn't looking at images and pictures of the many, very intense and physical ways women (and men) could be intimate with each other. And not knowing that meant her fertile imagination had no difficulty at all supplying all sorts of images she'd really prefer not to envision.

Then again, Courtney did still have a lot of study material to examine. And was making very good use of her time, too.

Courtney had already decided to sort things into three categories: 'You betcha!', 'I dunno', and 'Ick! No way!' Which were the reasons for the different colored page Post-it notes. Green marked things that Courtney definitely intended to explore and try out with her slave. Red were for things that didn't appeal to her at all. (It should be noted that there was hardly a red marker to be found).

Yellow had actually two different, yet closely similar, meanings. It marked either something that Courtney wasn't sure about or was hesitant to try, or something that she worried might freak Twerp out.

That left orange and, up until now, except for the nipple piercing pictures Courtney hadn't had a reason to use that color. But that was about to change very shortly.

Courtney glanced down at her slave. This was now the forth round of laying there outstretched then hogtied --which meant Twerp had been tied up just a little over an hour and a half by now-- and it was time to, once more, release Twerp from the hogtie. Not the rest of her bonds, of course. Just the hogtie.

It was also time for something else now, too.

Courtney had always intended to 'review' the iffy things with her slave. She'd started to do that, in fact, two hogties ago. But after showing Twerp two things Courtney had thought of a much more interesting way of reviewing items, and now she was finally finished her first 'walk-through' and selection. So after releasing Twerp from the hogtie Courtney simply rolled her slave --who squeaked, whined and squealed at that-- right over to her chair.

"Kneel," she instructed, helping lift Twerp upwards onto her knees, seeing how difficult it would be for Twerp to do so all on her own, especially after being bound for so long already. "In Tower," she added, and then grinned. "Since I don't think my slave could properly kneel in Nadu!"

Indeed, Twerp certainly couldn't, not with her legs bound together as they were. With a bit of effort Courtney finally had Twerp positioned where she wanted: right in front of Courtney's chair, facing towards the chair itself . . . and facing right at Courtney. Padding around Twerp Courtney wriggled once more up into her chair, placing little legs to either side of her slave after sitting down. Courtney's eyes merrily sparkled, seeing Twerp's head between her legs, almost right in Courtney's lap!

Sorting through the magazines Courtney found one with a yellow marker. Without saying a word Courtney opened the magazine up to the yellow-tagged page, then held the opened magazine down in front of Twerp's face so her slave could get a very good look.

There were a series of pictures on both pages, starting upper left on the left page and ending lower right on the right page. It showed, starting from the very beginning, a young naked woman being firmly gagged and then completely mummified, head to toe. Until all that was visible was the very tip of the breathing tube of the gag!

Courtney found that very fascinating and intriguing. Granted, you couldn't then play with your slave once all wrapped up (which was wrong, but Courtney didn't know that, as Samantha hadn't selected magazines showing women plugged fore and aft, or ones wired to electrical toys, before being mummified). But just look how awesomely helpless they were!

The only reason Courtney had tagged that as yellow was out of worry and concern over how Twerp might react. It was going to be very confining, after all, possibly scarily so. Worse, possibly phobic. So she 'tested' her slave, holding the pages down where she could see them while closely watching how Twerp responded.

Twerp's eyes grew huge and round. She tensed up and recoiled back, face paling a bit as she whined in fright. Courtney paid no mind to any of that; instead she simply scrutinized her slave's nipples and pussy.

Grinning Courtney took the magazine back, replacing yellow with green, then picked up another magazine with yellow tags.

Sasha could be forgiven for missing the obvious. After all, she'd already been tightly bound for over ninety minutes; was dealing with the tingles, the throbbing sensitive nipples and the itchy pussy being tied up ignited; was still stunned and shocked seeing Courtney so intently studying, and what was being studied. So it wasn't until the fourth or fifth magazine that she abruptly noticed Courtney changing the tag colors. And while she hadn't been told what the colors meant, the ratings they implied were so patently obvious she didn't need to be told.

'Oh gawd!' Sasha mentally wailed and whined. 'I am so screwed!' It wouldn't matter what she might say to Courtney --not that she'd ever have the opportunity to express her opinion, of course. Courtney was making her decisions based upon how Sasha's body was reacting and responding!

Indeed she was doing just that, ignoring any sounds or expressions her slave might make --other than enjoying them-- in favor of how nipples and pussy looked.

It took about twenty minutes to 'slave-appraise and evaluate' all the yellow marked items, and by the time Courtney was finished, each and every one save one had been replaced with green. The only orange-marked one, other than the prior orange-marked nipple-piercing magazine, dealt with breath-play and asphyxia, showing a girl bound and wearing a military gas mask over her face. Courtney was enchanted and captivated by the idea of being able to control even her slave's ability to breathe, but for the very first time Twerp's reaction seemed deeply visceral and truly alarmed, horrified and panicked.

Even so, Courtney was reluctant to abandon that idea, so orange-marked it for future discussion and possible negotiation with her mom.

Poor Sasha. It was bad enough imagining what Courtney might be looking at. Forced to kneel in front of her and actually have multiple and different possibilities assessed and reviewed based upon how Sasha's body reacted was much worse. Sheer torment, an agonizing trial and ordeal, for Sasha was quickly learning what a traitor her body was, how easily it betrayed her.

Setting the final magazine to the side, placing it atop the stack of the others Courtney gave the pile a dainty yet immensely satisfied pat. She then sat the lap desk atop the stack of magazines before turning her attention back to her slave. Glancing at her wristwatch Courtney realized it was getting on in the day. Soon mom would be coming to announce dinner.

Unfortunately for Twerp, she was in for a surprise when that happened. Grinning, eyes sparkling Courtney avidly stared at her slave kneeling in front of her. 'Boy she's going to be stiff, sore and achy by tonight!' Courtney thought. 'Betcha she'd agree to anything just to soak in a hot tub of water and get massaged after."

That triggered Courtney recalling her own massage, just last night in fact. Her very first one ever too! Gawd! That had felt soooooo awesome! Just remembering how that had felt had Courtney goosebumping and wriggling tiny socked toes. Closing her eyes she squirmed in remembered pleasure. She'd never felt anything that wonderful before.

Then she stilled, remembering something else that had happened during her massage. Something that had felt even more wonderful than the massage itself.

Sea grey eyes, oddly smoky, partially opened to slits as she stared at her slave kneeling so close to her. Right between Courtney's legs, in fact, which made Courtney's heart give a sudden odd pitter-patter.

"I really liked your kisses last night Twerp," Courtney whispered, her voice barely audible and so profoundly dreamy. "Thank you ever so much."

She didn't say anything for quite some time after that, just gazed through slitted lids at Twerp kneeling before her. Then, sounding hesitant and shy Courtney timidly asked with a whispered voice so thick with utter longing, so wistful and pining, "Do . . . do you think you might . . . kiss me again? Like that? Someday?"

Sasha felt herself warily tense at Courtney's first words. Granted, Courtney had been thanking Sasha, but it was what she was being thanked for that had her suddenly uneasy. It wasn't only Courtney aware of just where Sasha was kneeling; Sasha, too, was very conscious of her position.

Especially considering how short that skirt was, and how wide apart Courtney had spread her legs so that her slave could kneel between them. Sasha was getting a very clear view right up Courtney's little thighs, and if Sasha dipped her head a bit she was pretty sure she'd be able to see Courtney's panties as well.

Hearing Courtney mentioning those kisses from last night only reminded Sasha once more of a distressing reality: Sasha didn't have to want, or like, kissing Courtney's pussy in order for her to kiss there again. All that would take is for Courtney to order Sasha to do it.

As badly as Sasha had wanted that horrid gag removed, right at that moment she was sincerely, profoundly thankful her mouth was filled, stuffed and covered over. She couldn't, after all, be ordered to kiss if she was still gagged!

She started slowly relaxing when Courtney didn't say anything further and just sat there with a dreamy look to her face. Well, relaxed as much, at any rate, as any slave can get when intensely aching and stiff, at the same time as kneeling in Tower while still firmly bound and gagged . . . and when, in addition, being quite slippery wet and so tingly tight inside that skin felt swollen to bursting.

Sasha instinctively started to recoil and stiffen as Courtney started speaking again, but her cringing flinch died aborning. Courtney sounded like a little kid on her birthday, longingly staring at a field full of ponies knowing she'd never ever own one, and wistfully asking if . . . maybe . . just once . . . could she just touch one.

Sasha actually couldn't describe by putting into words how Courtney sounded. But on a gut-level she hadn't any problem at all empathizing or understanding Courtney's yearning.

For several long heartbeats she just knelt there, still and immobile, contrary and diametrically opposed feelings surging back and forth deep inside her. After four days Sasha hadn't come anywhere close to resolving the inner turmoil that fiercely roiled within her being forcibly enslaved caused, and while pussy-kissing wasn't quite the same magnitude as that, nevertheless it was still something quite profound. And she hadn't had even a full twenty-four hours to deal with that, either.

On one hand Sasha was still deeply shocked and disturbed at what she'd done: kissing Courtney's pussy, that is. Before "The Discovery" and the illicit explorations the week preceding that, Sasha had barely started whimsically daydreaming about simply kissing a boy. Wondering what that might be like, and discovering that those daydreams felt even more interesting than they had felt just the year before. So the massive leap from mere daydreams of kissing a boy (which felt perfectly normal and natural to her) to actually, for real, kissing a girl's pussy . . .

On the other hand, however, now that she'd actually done that, and had almost an entire day to ruminate on doing so, Sasha had to admit it wasn't as nasty, disgusting or revolting as she'd thought it would be. Not that she'd be happy about kissing just any girl's pussy, mind you. Because that thought did make her tummy roil and churn with revulsion.

But Courtney's . . . was ok, Sasha considered. Not so much because of how it looked --as Sasha hadn't, up until this week's worth of exploring, had all that many pussies to compare Courtney's to-- as because it was Courtney's.

As upset and angry as Sasha still remained about being punished as they'd chosen to do, and as well as there persisting much of the nasty, wicked brat in her, Sasha wasn't immune to the wistful heartfelt tone in her little cousin's voice. Nor had she been oblivious to how Courtney had reacted last night to having her pussy kissed by Sasha.

Quite clearly that had felt nice. Very nice. Really very nice.

Sasha hadn't any idea if Courtney had started --or had even discovered, for that matter-- doing things like banister pressing. So it was very likely Sasha's kissing made Courtney feel those very nice, gentle-warmy tingles for the very first time. If so, it wasn't at all surprising that she'd want to feel them again.

What was surprising to Sasha was why Courtney --who, after all, was Twerp's Mistress-- was wistfully asking rather than pointedly ordering and demanding.

What was just as surprising --startlingly shockingly so-- was how the memory of kissing Courtney's pussy and the remembrance of how those kisses had affected her, made Sasha feel inside.

To Sasha it felt as if long, long minutes had passed since Courtney's question. In actuality it hadn't been more than a few seconds; it just seemed much much longer. And Courtney wasn't expecting a reply because, to be honest, she really wasn't aware she'd actually asked it.

Asked it out loud, anyway; it had been more as if subliminal musings and inarticulate longings had somehow become verbalized without conscious decision on her part.

So Courtney was neither waiting for nor anticipating a response. She was just sitting there, a lot of thoughts and feelings --some quite recently new-- stirring inside, watching her slave kneeling right in front of her, seeing sticky strands of drool threading downwards from Twerp's chin and trickling onto her chest.

So she was somewhat startled when Twerp abruptly leaned back and tossed her head up and down several times, wordless muffled grunts as she did.

Courtney was quite puzzled, her little forehead cutely wrinkled in bemusement. And then her forehead furrowed in annoyance as she frowned and leaned forwards. "What? You want to be ungagged? Is that it?" Courtney growled in irritation. For she was certain that's what Twerp was whining for.

She was startled a second time when Twerp's huge grass-green eyes widened as she quickly shook her head back and forth. Gagged she might be, but even Courtney had no trouble deciphering the muffled grunted 'Nu-uh!' of negation.

"Huhn," Courtney muttered, leaning back, befuddled. If Twerp didn't want to be ungagged then why the heck was she fussing so?

Twerp just knelt there for another few seconds. Courtney didn't miss the convulsive motion of her collared throat as she tried swallowing several times. Then Courtney's sea grey eyes widened in confusion as Twerp, with grunted effort, wriggled herself a bit backwards on her knees then again tossed her head up and down, accompanied by more wordless grunts.

Now Courtney was both curious as well as puzzled. Nothing like this had happened before, and it wasn't like anything mom had ever talked to or warned Courtney about before, either. So she didn't have a clue what was going on, or what she should do about it.

Then Twerp tried leaning forwards, it seemed. But, bound as she was that wasn't terribly easy to do. In fact, it was darn difficult. Losing her balance Twerp, with a muffled squeal, fell forwards, chest landing against the front edge of Courtney's chair.

That startled Courtney, who thought that Twerp must have somehow accidentally fallen. She started to lean forwards to help Twerp straighten back up, but froze when her eyes caught her slave's face.

For Twerp's cheeks were an odd bright pink, and again she tossed her head up and down, making another series of muffled grunts as she did so.

"Do . . . do you want me to do something?" Courtney haltingly asked.

"Mmm hmm!" Twerp nodded.

And then did something that astounded Courtney stock-still yet had her tummy abruptly start majorly fluttering:

Ducking her head, Twerp started wriggling forward best as she could bound as she was, trying to burrow her head under Courtney's skirt!

Sasha almost gave up after the first attempt at 'explaining' to Courtney what she was going to try doing. Especially after it seemed that Courtney assumed Sasha was just trying to get her gag removed! What an awful injustice that would have been! Being punished when trying to do something nice!

She'd wriggled back on her knees, realizing she needed a bit more room between her and Courtney, wincing a bit both at the mild rug burn at knees and at the aching discomfort of strained muscles. Again she tried to explain to Courtney what Sasha needed from her, and silently cursed her total inability to verbally communicate while gagged as she was.

Since she couldn't enlighten Courtney, Sasha just went ahead best she could, leaning forward to get into place, then squealing as she fell forward rather then slowly leaned forward. With a gentle thump Sasha's chest landed on the edge of Courtney's chair. Which placed her head right between Courtney's spread little legs and at the bottom of her skirt.

Giving her an excellent view right up Courtney's skirt, at that!

For a moment hysterical giggles bubbled up inside her, clearly seeing Courtney's panties. Hello Kitty panties at that, which is what Sasha found so hilarious. 'Kitties for a pussy!' is all she could picture, and that was just way too funny!

Once the giggle-fit passed, though, Sasha took a deep breathe . . . then tucked her head down . . . and started burrowing her head under Courtney's skirt.

She felt as well as heard Courtney's soft gasp of surprise at that. Felt the little legs to either side of her head tense and twitch . . . then try opening even wider.

It was extremely difficult trying to move and tunnel under, bound as Sasha was. A lot more difficult than she'd pictured it would be. Compounding the difficulty was Courtney's skirt; while it wasn't skin-tight, it was very short. And while the leather was supple, it wasn't as pliant as fabric would be. Courtney could only spread her legs so wide in it, and she already had them as wide apart as the skirt would permit. And while that was wide enough to have Sasha kneel between them two feet away, that wasn't wide enough to permit Sasha to either worm her head underneath the skirt or any higher than halfway up slender parted thighs.

Drawing her head back out Twerp straightened back up, then again tossed her head and wordlessly grunted. Courtney hadn't understood Twerp before when she'd done that, and she really wasn't sure she understood now. But her mouth felt dry and her tummy butterfly-twitchy at what Twerp was doing, and a tiny wet tongue tip swiped lips that felt really dry as Courtney speculated about what her slave was trying to do.

Considering Twerp was gagged, it couldn't very well be kissing, Courtney reckoned. And if it wasn't kissing she sure as heck couldn't figure out what other purpose Twerp had in mind. But whatever it was, just seeing Twerp with such a single-minded look of determination had Courtney starting to feel a bit breathless.

For whatever reason Twerp seemed to want to stick her head up under Courtney's skirt. And it didn't take more than a few second's scrutiny for Courtney to realize that, nopers, that just wasn't gonna happen. Not with this skirt, anyway!

At least . . . not with how Courtney was sitting in it, anyway.

Wide grey eyes remained focused on her slave so very close in front of her as Courtney reached down and grabbed the back of her skirt with both small hands. Rocking side to side, lifting each little pert cheek at a time, Courtney tugged and tugged the rear of the skirt backwards, worming it out from beneath her until tiny pantied bottom was perched atop her chair and the back of the skirt was loosely puddle behind her.

Still intently gazing at Twerp Courtney then reached around to grasp the front edge of the skirt, drawing it both back and up until it resembled a little tent pitched at sleek hips.

Sasha swallowed (or tried to, anyway) a couple of times as Courtney started adjusting her skirt, especially when she finally finished. For now Sasha had a very clear, unobstructed view all the way up, definitely vividly seeing those Hello Kitty panties tightly molded to Courtney's sleek little hips. Tight enough that Sasha saw the outline of Courtney's pussy in a perfect camel-toe (even if Sasha didn't know that term . . . yet . . . she certainly had no difficulty in interpreting the actual sight).

She should have felt awkward, hesitant and embarrassed at what she planned on doing, a distant part of her mind appreciated. No matter how you looked at it, once again Sasha was going to have her face right against Courtney's pussy. Even if, this time, a panty covered it while a gag covered Sasha's mouth.

And, in fact, she did feel awkward. Not ill-at-ease-awkward, but clumsy-awkward; bound as she was, it was impossible not to feel ungainly. And felt hesitant, as well. And, again, not in a negative sense; not reticent-hesitant, but cautious-hesitant, for she was neither experienced nor proficient and so was a bit halting and unsure of matters.

What was most astonishing, though, was the total lack of embarrassment. A touch shy, yes; but not at all embarrassed. Quite the opposite, in fact, feeling a decidedly odd flush racing through her. One that complemented rather than conflicted the tingles and heat that being bound had ignited and had only been fanned and fueled with all that had transpired after.

Had Samantha been present, she most certainly would have understood matters. She'd already had this talk with her daughter, just yesterday afternoon in fact. Explaining to Courtney how, when someone was powerfully aroused and excited inhibitions very easily went flying out the window. How they would eagerly agree to do things that, in saner, more sober moments, they'd never consider doing at all. And while that could be extremely useful when helping someone expand their limits, one had to be extraordinarily cautious in doing so as one could easily, by accident, exceed someone's limits.

Even though all that had been explained to Courtney, and even considering Courtney's precocious cleverness, it never occurred to her that that might explain Twerp's current behavior. Then again, considering Courtney was no little aroused herself by now, perhaps that lapse could be forgiven.

Taking a deep breath Sasha leaned forward again, steeling herself for the unbalanced unsupported lurch forward. This time she didn't squeal, expecting that fall. And, this time, Sasha had a perfectly clear view of Courtney's lithe bare little legs and pantied pussy.

Had a completely unobstructed physical path to there, too.

Sasha had never intended kissing. She was gagged, after all, and pretty shrewdly understood that no matter what she might do or 'say' there wasn't a snowball's chance in Hell of convincing Courtney to remove that gag until she was good and ready to do so. But to do what she'd planned on doing Sasha didn't need to be ungagged. But she still needed to be 'right up there' so, with a series of exerted grunts, Sasha wormed and wriggled her way upwards until, at last, her gagged face was right up next to Courtney's pantied pussy.

Courtney still hadn't a clue what her slave had in mind, but something about watching her wriggle upwards like she'd done while all tied up and gagged had made Courtney's tummy feel tinglier and tighter. A very nice feeling indeed!

Pausing to catch her breath Sasha rested a bit once her chest was half onto the chair and her face close enough to Courtney's panties that she could scent the Downy fabric softener fragrance of the material. Another giggle threatened to bubble up out of her as Sasha thought of something; Courtney's panties were, so far, dry as a bone. But as messy and soaked as Sasha's face was, that would very quickly change.

As Courtney was sitting mostly upright Sasha had to tip her head painfully back in order to position things right. Then, after straining back as far as she could, she wriggled a bit further upwards . . . then firmly pressed the wide leather strap covering her face against the very apex Courtney's pussy.

Pressed . . . then relaxed . . . pressed . . . then relaxed . . .

Just like Sasha did when banister pressing . . .

Except . . . this time . . .

Sasha was being the banister to a pussy . . . Courtney's pussy.

Sasha couldn't be positive, of course and, considering the rule about speaking couldn't have asked --not that up to now it would have mattered to her one way or the other. But she was virtually positive that her little cousin hadn't yet discovered things like banister, railing and bedpost pressing. Sasha hadn't until just last year, and from the little she'd managed both overhearing and retaining during the recent anatomy lessons and lectures it hadn't sounded as if Courtney had.

That had always felt so dreamily, breathtakingly wonderful to Sasha when she'd done that. And she was as positive as a person could be that it would feel just as awesomely nice to Courtney as it always had to Sasha herself.

So, while she couldn't kiss . . .

It was a bumpy ride at first. Much like the first kiss of a young boy and girl, neither of whom knew just where to put noses, so this was for both Courtney and her slave.

At the first firm press of Twerp's face against her Courtney softly hissed, sea grey eyes rounding wide, startled at the delicate shivery jolt that pressure caused. It was like nothing Courtney had anticipated, expecting, if anything, a sensation perhaps like being kissed had felt. But this felt more like it did when leaning against the washer while it cycled or spun. Not the same, no, but close. Closer than the kisses had, anyway.

That little hissed inhale sent a rippling shiver through Sasha, and she pressed a second, then a third, time, each press accompanied by a sharp swift barely audible inhale from Courtney. It wasn't easy pressing; Courtney was still sitting upright and back against the chair, which meant Sasha had her head craned so far back her muscles felt ready to spasm and knot.

It felt soooo good! Courtney thought, lightly shivering at the sensations each press produced. It felt even better because of two additional reasons: one that Twerp had to know what this felt like, and two, that Twerp had chosen to do this all on her own, with the only real beneficiary being Courtney!

With each tingling press against her Courtney softly cooed even more, body becoming languorous and relaxed. And the more indolent and languid she became, the further down in the chair she started to slide.

The further down Courtney slid, the easier it was for Sasha to press. She didn't have to crane her neck back so far, plus it was also easier to press more of her gagged face directly down and against the apex of Courtney's little bare pussy.

After a few minutes Courtney was bonelessly sprawled in her chair, tiny bottom perched right on the edge of the seat, small arms draped over the arms of the chair. As she was no longer holding her skirt up the soft leather had fallen down atop Sasha, covering her head down to the nape of her neck.

Sasha was very aware the moment the skirt descended as abruptly her vision dimmed and her nose filled with the distinct scent of leather. As Courtney slithered downwards Sasha had to wriggle back a bit more on her knees, until finally equilibrium was met: Courtney close to sliding off the edge of her seat, and Sasha easily able to press the entire front of her gagged mouth direct against Courtney's apex.

Press . . relax . . press . . relax . . press . . relax . . press . . relax . . press . . relax . .

Unlike when Sasha banister pressed and set her own pace, this time Sasha was controlling the rhythm, speed and pressure for Courtney, using the same tempo that she had when doing it herself, for herself.

Press . . relax . . press . . relax . . press . . relax . . press . . relax . . press . . relax . .

Courtney's breathing started growing softly ragged. Sleek little hips began gently rocking and circling. Not seeking, just . . . basking. Low airy sighs drifted from her, and each and every one of her reactions and responses somehow resonated with Sasha. And unlike when kissing her last night, this time Sasha wasn't at all worried about Courtney potentially getting wet. For one thing, gagged as she was Sasha wasn't worried about any of Courtney's wetness reaching her. And, for another, as wet and slobbery as Sasha was, it was a given that, one way or another, Courtney was going to get soaked!

Press . . relax . . press . . relax . . press . . relax . . press . . relax . . press . . relax . .

Courtney felt as if she was drifting; weightlessly floating in warmth so thick it felt like syrup about her; bathed in gentle tingles that made her skin feel vibrantly alive, every little itsy-bitsy inch. She was conscious and aware of being awake, but was perfectly content to place that back in the distant part of her mind and simply bask and revel in the sensations her slave was bringing to her.

Sasha, meanwhile, was feeling an excitement within her both very familiar yet quite unique. The focus of her thoughts were on the rhythm of her presses and on Courtney's responses to them, but she wasn't unaware of the slickness between her bound slender legs or the achy, throbbing tightness of her nipples.

Both were so deep into their respective worlds that neither one heard or noticed the theatre door opening as Samantha stepped inside. "Dinner's ready Courtn . . .," Samantha started, then stopped dead, stunned, at seeing the tableau before her.