"Mom! Mom!! Come quick!"

It was the keening sound every parent fears. Samantha felt an icy chill hearing Courtney's shrieks. In one fluid motion the coffee mug was on the table, the chair pushed back and then she was on her feet, heading to the basement doorway.

"What is it Courtney? What's wrong?" she called out in alarm, already taking the steps two at a time.

"Oh Mom! Come quick! It's Sasha! I . . . I . . . I dunno what happened! Hurry!!" Courtney wailed, dancing from one tiny foot to the other, using Twerp's real name in her distress. She looked pale as a ghost and was so alarmed she was trembling. No sooner had Samantha reached the basement then her daughter grabbed her hand and started pulling her along back to the secret rooms.

"Courtney!" Samantha said with consternation as she rapidly followed behind. "Is Sasha hurt? What is it?" All sorts of dire visions popped into her head, ranging from Sasha getting a charley horse and in severe agony as she cramped all the way to her choking and no longer breathing.

"I . . . she . . . that is . . .," Courtney stuttered. "She's leaking!" she finally blurted, towing Samantha past the secret door, through the cloak/sitting room and into the main room proper.

"Leaking?" Samantha repeated, confused. But also extremely relieved, too, seeing Sasha appearing perfectly fine just ahead, still restrained to the poles as she had been when Samantha had gone upstairs. The only difference she could see is that, not unexpectedly, Sasha had been gagged.

"Uh-huh! Leaking! Look!" Courtney demanded, stopping just in front of Sasha and pointing right at her mound. "See! Her cunny is leaking!"

Sasha had already been blushing as they'd entered but, at that, she flushed an even brighter crimson, a vivid flood starting at her face and ending all the way down to her tiny, clenched toes. She looked left. Right. Up. Down. Any- and everywhere except at her Aunt and cousin. She visibly jerked, instinctively trying to cover herself and, of course, failing.

Samantha mightily struggled not to laugh. That was terribly difficult not to do, too, both from the utter intense relief at finding out nothing was really the matter, that Sasha - well, Twerp - was all right, and at the expression on her daughter's face. However, if she burst out laughing Twerp would misunderstand the reasons of her humor. And that would be terribly cruel to Twerp and she knew it.

For, while it was obvious Courtney had no idea what was happening, Twerp certainly seemed to understand. And, right now, it was far more important to assure Twerp that there wasn't anything naughty, nasty or wrong about what had happened. That it was perfectly natural and normal.

"Baby," Samantha finally murmured, once she was sure she had her voice under control. "I told you Twerp might get wet, didn't I?"

Courtney's eyes goggled. Mom had said just that. But, well, when Mom had explained that Twerp's cunny might get wet, she pictured it looking like Twerp had been swimming, or just out of the shower. The skin damp and shining with moisture. She certainly hadn't expected to see what she had seen.

Nothing at all like beads of water or shimmering, slick skin. Instead, thick, viscous tendrils of . . . something. Threads of that stuff that dangled downwards, rivulets trickling down Twerp's inner thighs. Her cunny slit absolutely thickly coated with the slimy looking stuff.

Not just that either, for Twerp's cunny had looked different, too. Rosier in hue. Puffier and swollen. Visibly so, enough so that that cleft wasn't a slit anymore but a parted, opened crevice, revealing a gleaming pink interior. With her legs helplessly held open as they were Courtney had gotten a very clear picture, and it wasn't anything at all like she'd expected. Mom hadn't prepared her for that, and neither had Health Class.

"That's what being wet means?" she incredulously blurted. "Ewwww! Yuck!"

Twerp blushed even brighter, looking humiliated beyond words. Courtney had been out the door, hollering for her Mom before she'd figured out what must have shocked and startled her. Sasha had been so lost in a strange, odd, new world in her mind that she hadn't realized she'd been getting juicy. Very juicy, in fact. Very.

Now, however, as she'd started rising from the depths of that odd place in her mind that Courtney had sent her, Sasha became very aware of just how juicy she was. She could feel that warm stickiness trickling down the inside of her legs. Legs that were helplessly spread rather wide, firmly held that way by the ankle cuffs below. She hotly blushed, utterly aware of how open, how exposed she was. Literally on display, with no way to hide that from anyone that looked at her.

And Courtney had run off to fetch Aunt Samantha before Sasha could stop her (not, she realized, that there was any way of stopping her!) and Sasha had just wanted to die of crucial embarrassment and shame. She'd never live this down. Never!

They both came back inside, Courtney dragging her Mom along behind her. Sasha almost burst into tears she was so ashamed and humiliated. She couldn't figure out why Courtney was freaking out, and was starting to panic herself, thinking that maybe something was horribly wrong. But her Aunt didn't seem worried and she couldn't figure out what the problem really was after all.

Until Courtney blurted out what she had.

See! Her cunny is leaking!

Sasha felt herself turn into an enormous blushing bonfire at that. She couldn't look at either of them she was so utterly mortified. But Aunt Samantha didn't seem upset. Or surprised. Or disgusted at Sasha for what she'd done. In fact . . . it almost sounded like she'd expected this to happen!

Courtney's next words had Sasha blushing even hotter. She made getting juicy sound like something very nasty and revolting. It didn't help that her Aunt chuckled at that, either.

Except it wasn't, not at all, a mocking or ridiculing laugh.

"Yes baby," she softly replied, smiling down at her daughter. "That's what 'getting wet' means."

Courtney nodded, then stared harder at Twerp's cunny. "It looks different now," she exclaimed.

"Different?" Samantha inquired. "Different, how?"

"We-e-elll . . .," Courtney started, thinking hard to remember. "Before, her cunny looked swollen. Puffy." Tiny hands fluttered as she tried to put what she'd seen into words. "Both sides were raised up a little, and looked pinker. Well, rosier. Like Twerp's face when she blushes," which, at that, made Twerp do just exactly that very thing, her face blooming a bright rose.

Samantha nodded, listening. And also watching both Twerp, and appraising her mound. She was surprised, very astonished, to see those signs of deep arousal.

"And this wasn't together. It was, well, opened apart," Courtney said as she pointed a tiny finger at Twerp's exposed, displayed cunny, right at her now-closed slit. "Oh, hold still!" she scolded her slave, who'd gave a little squeal and tried pulling back as Courtney went to point. "That's better," she muttered as Twerp deeply shivered, gave a muffled whimper and fought to remain motionless.

Courtney traced Twerp's cleft with a tiny fingertip, not quite touching. "Here, I mean. It was more open before. I could see inside. All pink and glisteny-shiny," she said. "It looked like all this goopy stuff was coming from inside, too. But, it's closed now." Frowning, Courtney peered closer. "But the icky stuff is still coming out, I think."

Samantha gently chided her daughter. "It's not 'icky stuff' Courtney. It's called 'cream', and it's something that happens when a girl gets excited and it's perfectly natural."

"Cream?" she incredulously said while making an icky face, thinking of the stuff Mom put in her coffee. "Well, it doesn't happen to me when I get excited," Courtney chirped, returning back to her main puzzlement. "I mean, I don't get wet when I do fun and exciting things!"

Samantha softly chuckled. "That's not what I mean when I say 'excited' baby." Courtney looked confused and no little inquisitive. And, when Samantha glanced up at Twerp, she looked curious as well. Which, she supposed, wasn't all that surprising.

"Well sweetheart," Samantha said, gazing at her daughter, "I think it's time for an advanced anatomy class." She motioned for Courtney to stand at one side of Twerp and Samantha stood at the other. "First off," she began explaining, "Let's start off with learning about the parts of your slave's body."

Courtney eagerly nodded, and even Twerp seemed to be listening. Samantha began lightly caressing Twerp's flank and sleek hip with her fingertips as she began teaching. When Courtney noticed her doing that Samantha gave a barely noticeable head tip to her daughter, indicating she should start doing the same. Twerp softly flinched when Samantha first touched her side, then started again when Courtney did the same on her other side. But, when all they did was simply ever so lightly stroke and caress, her tensed little naked and restrained body relaxed.

"I'm going to give you both the medical terms as well as the slang ones," she informed her daughter. "Then also explain what they do; what their purpose are." Courtney nodded, huge dusky eyes flicking back and forth between watching - and listening to - her Mom and looking at her slave.

"This entire area is called the vulva," Samantha said, tracing in the air just above Twerp's cootchie with her fingertip. "Or the external genitals. It's also called a lot of other things, too," she said with a grin. "Like pussy."

Both girls' eyes opened wide. They'd heard that word before, you bet, but sure as heck weren't allowed to use it! They knew that without even asking! They just hadn't known exactly what it had meant, only that it was quite naughty.

Samantha flicked a glance up at Twerp, then noticed the gradually spreading sticky trails of drool trickling down from Twerp's gag, coating her little chin and dripping onto her small chest. Dropping her eyes Samantha met Courtney's, then again gave a little twitch of her head. Courtney then glanced up and spotted the same thing. When she looked back down at her Mom Samantha meaningfully cut her eyes to the pail on the table.

Without a word Courtney padded over to the table, reached inside the pail and took the sponge. Firmly squeezing the excess water out she walked back over to Twerp, then reached up a little arm and started gently wiping the sticky slobber off. Twerp turned a brilliant fuscia but held still; embarrassing and humiliating as it was, helplessly slobbering like this, she was more then eager and anxious to have it wiped clean and off of her.

Courtney couldn't keep an amused look off her face this time. It really was funny seeing Twerp drooling down her chin. It was also exciting knowing that she'd put that gag thing in her mouth, too, and buckled it up nice and snug so Twerp couldn't push it back out again. As well as how it made her slave sound ridiculous and silly when she made sounds and noises. But she was more eager to get back to the lessons then she was to make Twerp blush harder so she simply cleaned off her slave, gently yet efficiently, returning the sponge to the pail when finished then standing back at Twerp's side again. As soon as she was there she started caressing Twerp's side and flank again with soft tiny fingertips, looking at her Mom and waiting for her to continue.

"Now, you can call this 'pussy' if you like Courtney," informed Samantha. "But, only when no one else is around but the two of us."

Courtney looked puzzled. "Two of us?" she repeated. "What about when I'm around Twerp?"

"Twerp's just your slave sweetheart," Samantha said. "She's your property. We don't include her when we're talking about people."

Both of them felt the shiver that rippled through Twerp at that.

"Now, as I said, this is called the vulva. Or pussy," Samantha said with a smile. "In young girls it sits more upward. Like it looks on you or Twerp. As a girl gets older it starts shifting more, downwards. Later I'll show you a picture of an adult woman so you can see what I mean."

Courtney nodded, paying close attention. "This area, at the top, is called the mons pubis, or mons. And these here are called labia. The slang term is lips, or pussy lips." Again Courtney nodded. "There are two outer ones, and two inner ones. The ones you see here are just the outer lips. When a girl reaches puberty - that's when a girl starts changing from a child into an adult - she'll start to grow hair here. At her mons and outer labia. Puberty usually starts around your teenage years but, with girls, can start as early as nine or ten. And it's usually over by the time you reach sixteen or seventeen."

So far neither of them had touched Twerp anywhere but at her sides, sleek hips, flank or outer spread thighs. And the caresses had been very soft, light and gentle. They felt very nice, in fact. Very pleasant. While unlike the intensity of her breasts and nipples being sponged, and different compared to the pleasureable tingles from banister pressing and rubbing, nevertheless the caresses were making Sasha's tummy tingle inside. A gentle, light, tight, achy tingle.

Her skin was already super-sensitive to touch from everything that had happened so far, so every feathery brush of their fingertips felt shivery-wonderful. And the delightful, stimulating caresses somehow, some way, seemed to travel from her skin right through to her once-again taut, erect nipples and her aching, tingling tummy.

More bizarre, however, extremely so, was how being talked about like an object, as if she wasn't even there although her body was, was adding to that nice, achy, tight warmth. That ought to be humiliating and, to some degree it was. But instead of making Sasha feel like shriveling up and dying inside there was a growing impetus to start gently squirming.

Courtney was listening very closely to her Mom, while being very attentive to her slave, too. Feathery, pale brows lifted up as she noted Twerp starting to respond. Looking at Samantha she mouthed in an awed sounding, breathy whisper, "Look Mom! She's doing it again!"

Sasha felt her face heat up once more, feeling herself, against her will and desire, start getting juicy again. Or, 'wet', as her Aunt called it. But the tone of her cousin's voice - that of delight and awed, pleased wonder - coupled with her gleaming thrilled, enchanted eyes and the look of approval and understanding in her Aunt's sent soft, gentle waves of warmth all through her, too.

"So I see," Samantha softly murmured, smiling up at Twerp as she continued softly caressing the helpless child's smooth, warm, flushed silky skin.

"Why?" Courtney asked, curious, her tiny fingers never stopping caressing either, brushing and gliding up and down, side to side, and in gentle lazy circles.

"Because this feels good to her," Samantha explained.

"Well, I don't get wet when things feel good to me," Courtney countered.

"Well baby, there's a difference between things that feel good, like riding a horse or getting an 'A' on a test, and this kind of 'feel good'." Samantha paused a moment, considering how to explain better. "This kind of 'feel good' is what's known as 'sensual'. Something that stimulates the senses. Sensual doesn't have to also include sexual. Massages, for example, can be quite sensual. But it often does."

Courtney's ears perked up at the word 'sexual'. Oh! This sounded as if it was gonna get interesting!

Twerp's ears also perked up as well. Not just out of curiosity - which was there, naturally enough - but for a more personal, intimate reason. After all, it was her body they were discussing and playing with!

"A girl's body is, well, sort of programmed to like certain things being done to it. Special areas are very sensitive to being touched, and touches in those places feel very nice."

"Like her nippies?" Courtney piped up, remembering Twerp's squirmings being sponged there.

"Nipples, yes," Samantha corrected, giving her the adult term. "And yes, like there."

"Oh kewl!" Courtney burbled in delight. "Will mine ever feel that nice being touched?" she asked.

"Yes baby," Samantha warmly smiled at her daughter. "They will. In fact," she paused a moment before continuing, "they might feel that way even now if touched and rubbed. A girl doesn't have to start puberty like Twerp has in order for touches in some places to feel good."

Courtney pondered that as she continued caressing Twerp. Neither of them was paying a bit of attention to the slave, a fact that she was very well aware of, talking about her but never to her. As if she wasn't even there, as if she didn't matter. And that, too, for reasons Sasha couldn't explain or understand, was making the achy tight tingles in her tummy increase.

Special areas meant more then one place Courtney reasoned, and her fertile, inquisitive, sharp-as-a-tack mind started reasoning, trying to think of what other places might exist. It was only a matter of moments before several things clicked into place. Breasts were a 'no-touch' place. And so was a cunny. Well, pussy, that is. Twerp had squirmed when her breasts had been sponged, and had done the same when Courtney had sponged her pussy. Then Courtney's face flamed as bright as Twerp's had done when she thought of something she herself did.

"What is it baby?" Samantha asked, seeing that hot blush.

Courtney leaned close to her Mom and whispered. "Ummm . . . is it a 'feel good' sensual thing when I, umm, that is . . .," she trailed off, blushing worse, actually fidgeting. Samantha whispered back, smiling in encouragement, "When what baby?"

"When I press against the washer when it's doing clothes?" Courtney whispered back, so softly Samantha almost didn't hear her. Samantha smothered a grin. No wonder the little scamp was so happy to help out with the laundry lately!

"Yes baby. It is. I'll talk to you more about that later, if you'd like?"

Courtney eagerly nodded, her blushes fading as Mom didn't seem upset or anything. "So that means it will feel good to Twerp to have her pussy rubbed?"

Both felt Twerp's little, naked, helplessly restrained body tense and shiver at that, heard a soft, barely audible moan of dismay and embarrassment. Neither paid any attention to that, other then to savor her reaction.

"Want to find out?" Samantha asked.

Well, yes! Kinda, she thought. On the one hand Courtney was very eager, quite enthusiastic to try. On the other hand, she was also quite a bit shy and self-conscious about actually touching Twerp there. Not to mention all that yucky stuff all over down there.

While Courtney's jury was still out deliberating, Twerp's was a confirmed, unanimous 'No!' But she was also dreadfully aware that her opinion not only didn't count but wouldn't even be solicited.

Samantha gave her daughter an encouraging smile and nod. Courtney swallowed, took a deep breath, then shifted a little, until she was gazing right at Twerp's smooth, bare slick mound. With Twerp's lithe slender legs held open as they were she had a clear unobstructed view. Courtney felt a little heated, tingly shiver knowing that; understanding that Twerp was helplessly held wide open. Exposed. Displayed. Because Courtney had decided to do that to her. Had put her slave in that position.

She just looked for several long seconds, could literally see more of that stuff trickle and ooze from her slave. Again a feeling of power came over her. She was making Twerp do that! A small hand hesitantly reached up, tiny fingers extended. Twerp stiffened more, pulled back, gave another muffled moan of dismay.

"Stop that," Courtney softly scolded, landing a sharp, open-palm swat on Twerp's rear. "And hold still. I'm not gonna hurt you."

Samantha's eyes widened at Courtney's unconscious response to Twerp's moving about. She was taking to this, it seemed, like a duck to water!

Twerp wasn't afraid of being hurt. That wasn't what was worrying her, not at all. Instead, she had the most incredibly sinking feeling that, if Courtney started touching her there, she wouldn't be able to keep still. Or quiet. And she was very aware that both her Aunt and cousin were watching her like hawks. They wouldn't miss a thing!

Tiny fingers lightly trembling, feeling both terribly shy yet curiously eager, Courtney reached out again. Softer then down, lighter then a feather, she tremulously brushed the tips of her fingers down Twerp's pussy, feeling a sensation of wicked naughtiness doing so. Her eyes lit up, sparkled like gems at Twerp's reaction: a soft, breathy, sharply hissed inhale; small naked body tensing then quivering; sleek little hips giving a gentle buck outwards. "Oooooohh!" she airily whispered. "She likes this!"

Again and again, her nervousness and hesitancy vanishing in moments, Courtney kept ever so softly stroking the smooth bare skin of her slave's pussy. Watching as Twerp shivered and trembled harder, listening to her breathy inhales and muffled little sounds. Huge dusky eyes widened as the skin beneath her tiny fingertips started darkening, turning a soft rose. As Twerp's pussy started slowly swelling again. "Mom, look!" she loudly whispered. "It's doing it again!"

Utter bewilderment, dismay and confusion was filling Sasha. This was horribly embarrassing and humiliating. Held wide open and exposed, having her cootchie helplessly played with and no way to stop, prevent or avoid that. Yet, embarrassing and mortifying as that was, she couldn't ignore or deny what that was doing to her.

Or resist, prevent or stop those sensations from growing and increasing.

Samantha nodded, smiling at her daughter, having seen the same thing. Rather surprised, too, she hadn't expected Twerp to be this responsive. But, she obviously was and, just as obviously, like it or not, wanted even more. It was very apparent that Twerp was struggling to resist, and just as clear she was failing in that effort.

"Why does it do that Mom?" Courtney asked, still lightly, softly caressing, an enchanted, fascinated look in her eyes.

"She's becoming aroused baby," Samantha softly replied. Courtney looked at her curiously at that. "There are several steps to 'excitement' and 'feeling good'," she explained, still caressing Twerp's side, hip, thigh and now bottom. "And one's body - and mind and thoughts - play a part in each step. The first step is called desire." Courtney nodded as she listened, continuing, so very softly, brushing tiny fingertips over her slave's pussy. Twerp was trying to listen, too, hoping this would help explain things to her. But it was getting harder and harder to concentrate as those tingles and tight achiness grew worse, more demanding.

"Desire is, well, basically wanting to do something. Or have things done to you. Things that, when you think about doing them or having them done to you, make you feel tingly inside. Warm and breathless. An odd achy tightness low down in the pit of your tummy. Right about here," she added, lightly pressing a fingertip just at Twerp's pubis.

Twerp groaned at that press, struggled to press outwards, harder against it. That little press made the achiness in her feel so much better! And she wanted more.

"Oooooohh!" Courtney airily breathed again, enchanted and fascinated by her slave's reaction to that.

"Daydreams, pretend and fantasy also play a part in desire," Samantha continued. "They can make your body fidget and squirm, without any touches at all. Make you want to do, instead of just think or dream about them. And they can also lead to the second step. Arousal."

Twerp wished her mind wasn't whirling as it was. She could only dimly perceive what her Aunt was saying, but it sounded very important, very applicable to her own case. But the gently stroking, caressing fingers of her Aunt, and especially her cousin, were turning her mind to goo and her body to mush.

"Arousal can happen from just daydreaming about things," Samantha explained. "Also from being touched, or doing the touching. Having things done to her, or doing things to another. When a girl becomes aroused, her skin sometimes will flush, her nipples get hard and erect. Her pussy will swell and flush and, when really aroused, get wet. Sometimes very wet. As you can see."

"Why do girls get wet Mom?" Courtney asked, her gaze alternating between watching her tiny fingers caressing her slave's pussy - which was, indeed, swelling more and turning a deeper rose - and looking at her Mom.

"I can't remember, if I ever knew it to start," she chuckled, "what the biology term is for that. I've always heard it called cream. Or cum. Which is what I call it. Basically it's lubrication."

"Lubrication?" Courtney asked, curious. "For what?"

Quite matter-of-factly Samantha answered. "It makes the inside, the vagina, slippery and slick. To make it easier for the man to insert his penis into her."

Courtney's eyes rounded at that. They hadn't quite explained things that detailed in Health Class before! "His penis into her?" she blurted. "Like that thing I put into Twerp's mouth?"

Sasha groaned in humiliation. Courtney knew what that thing gagging her mouth was supposed to resemble after all!

"Yes baby. Just like that. When a man does that with a girl that's called intercourse. Or mating, sex, or making love. There are lot's of other expressions for that, including the F-word, which I better not hear you ever use!" she warned.

"Yes Ma'am," Courtney meekly replied, knowing just what naughty word Mom meant, too.

"If a penis is supposed to go there, why do they make a gag thing so a penis goes into her mouth?" she cleverly asked.

Samantha glanced up, seeing Twerp's bright, furious scarlet blush. "Men find it feels good to have their penis sucked on," she finally replied. "That's called oral sex. The proper term for a girl doing that to a man is fellatio. The slang for that is a blow job, or BJ. And when a man licks a girl's pussy it's called cunnilingus. And the slang for that is 'eating out'. You don't have to worry about remembering the proper words, though. And, like pussy, don't let me catch you using the slang ones except when it's just us."

Courtney was glad to hear she didn't have to remember the proper words, they didn't sound awful easy to remember or say! Then her little jaw dropped as Mom continued. "Of course, a man can do it to a man . . . and a girl can do it to a girl, too." Her huge eyes darted to Twerp's pussy then back to her Mom, who simply gave a little nod and a smile. "I'll tell you more about that, too, later sweetheart, OK?"

Courtney thought that was a very good idea, because if Mom expected her to lick Twerp there, no way!! The thought that she could make Twerp lick her there never crossed her mind.

"So the reason they make gags like that," Samantha returned to the original question, "has several answers. One is because some girls like sucking a man, and having that in their mouth is like doing that. And some girls don't like doing that, so it's very embarrassing for them to know something like that is in their mouth."

Courtney nodded, understanding that. "That's why Twerp blushed so much when I went to put it in?" she asked.

Considering the brilliant glow Twerp had at the moment, Courtney realized she really didn't need that answered, grinning at her Mom as Twerp gave a moan of mortification and embarrassment.

Samantha nodded, smiling at her daughter. She considered a moment before finally adding, "There's also another reason to make gags like that."

"Oh? What?" Courtney asked, very curious.

"To train a girl to suck a penis," she replied. "Especially one that doesn't want to do that. So they get used to having one in their mouth."

"Oooooooooh!" Courtney said in an awed whisper, gazing up at Twerp who'd suddenly tensed and deeply shuddered and trembled. "I don't think Twerp wants a penis in her mouth," she shrewdly perceived.

Samantha shrugged. "What she wants or doesn't want doesn't really matter Courtney," she said. "She's your slave, and you can do what you want with her."

Courtney looked up, meeting Twerp's enormous, wide, grass-green eyes. She looked so kewl with that gag thing in her mouth, with that black leather strap covering over her lips and cheeks firmly holding the penis thing inside. And, now knowing what else it was for, made seeing it even more exciting.

"Suck on that penis," Courtney told her. "I want to see and hear you sucking on that." Twerp's face ignited into a scarlet blaze. She whimpered and shook her head. Courtney scowled, about to swat her slave on the rump again but, instead, after a moment, her face turned softer. "C'mon Twerp. You can do it," Courtney said in a soft, wheedling, coaxing murmur. "It's not that bad. And I wanna see and hear you do it. I won't ever make you suck on a real one. You're mine. You belong to me and I'm not gonna share you with no nasty boy. You can do it. That's it. Oh yes! That's my good slave!" she breathily murmured, dusky eyes sparkling and bright as, slowly at first, Twerp started sucking on the firm, lifelike latex penis filling her small mouth.

Unmistakably Sasha didn't want to suck on that, certainly not with the two of them there. And most definitely not because she'd been told, ordered, to do that. She'd tensed seeing Courtney abruptly frown and glare, bracing for another spank. Or, worse, the paddle again. But then Courtney did something totally unexpected. Something that, for some unknown reason, utterly disarmed Sasha's resistance.

Courtney's eyes looking up at her had been soft yet excited. Brimming full of eager anticipation and expectant delight. Her low, encouraging croons hit her harder then loud, sharp scolds would have done. Her gentle, soft words caressed her mind and emotions, her approval and delight feeling just like her brushing tiny fingers did down below. Without consciously realizing she'd done so Sasha had started sucking, hesitantly and reluctantly at first, on that penis filling her mouth. Then, seeing how delighted Courtney became at that, and again as if against conscious thought or will, she started sucking more rhythmically, less faltering. Until, at last, she was steadily, smoothly sucking on it.

Samantha tried to conceal her stunned reaction at what she'd seen, both at her daughter's adroit handling of her slave, coaxing and cajoling rather then scolding and punishing, and at how Twerp had responded to that. It was fascinating to watch. And very insightful, too, giving her more to ponder about each child, more to work with, to plan with.

Courtney just stared up at Twerp with rapt, fascinated and spellbound eyes. Seeing her sucking on that penis thing filling her mouth, hidden behind the securing leather strap. Listening to the sounds as she did that. Knowing that Twerp was doing that only because Courtney had told her to do so. This was all so terribly exciting! Even more so seeing how Twerp was reacting. Understanding better now what her slave's little squirms, what her wetness, her soft panted breaths meant.

Understanding she had that power over Twerp. The power to induce the ecstasy of pleasure as well as inflict the discomfort of punishment.

"She likes this Mom. She really, really likes this!" she softly whispered, enchanted.

Samantha warmly smiled back. Just as softly she whispered, "Yes baby. Yes. She really really does."

Courtney was no longer nervous about touching Twerp where she was. And her shyness about caressing there was rapidly dwindling, too. Between Twerp's obvious ardor at those touches and the approving looks her Mom kept bestowing on her Courtney was relaxing more and more. If Mom was all right with this, if Mom approved - heck, encouraged! - what Courtney was doing, then it must be OK!

This was way different then what she'd done before. Way different. She'd enjoyed punishing Twerp, oh yes. It felt good to finally get her own back for what Twerp had done and said. It felt good seeing her jump and dance and twist. Hearing her muffled squeals, cries, pleas and sobs. She'd enjoyed everything about paddling and cropping Twerp, once she'd gotten over the squeamishness of actually doing that. After all, she still had her own punishment paddling coming, and she couldn't forget her own personal, painful experiences with that. But, once she'd landed the first couple of swats that queasiness went away and, so far, hadn't returned. She'd also liked making Twerp helplessly squirm by sponging her boobies. Knowing that was embarrassing and humiliating Twerp by doing that.

But making her squirm this way was different. She didn't know, exactly, how to explain that, but, it just was. Maybe it was because, this time, it wasn't to make Twerp ashamed or mortified. Instead of being a mean sort of thing to do to her it was intended to make Twerp feel good. Nice. That excited nice Mom called arousal. Something good instead of something awful. Whatever it really was Courtney didn't know and, right now, she didn't really care, either. Mom would help explain it all later, she was sure.

For now all Courtney cared about was watching Twerp as she responded to what Courtney was doing to her. Watching and listening as her slave started squirming more and more, wriggling like a snake. Sleek little hips gently rocking, circling, rolling. Pressing out more firmly against Courtney's tiny stroking fingertips. Her cream glistening thicker, even more oozing out. Her pussy looking more puffy and rosy then ever before.

Slowly but surely, as inexorable as the rising sun, Twerp was loosing her ability to think, to object, to reason, to resist, to rationalize. An upwelling tide of golden, tingly, heated, achy warmth - of sheer, undiluted, unadulterated pleasure - was gradually, inexorably, expanding inside her. Her skin felt stretched and taut from the inflating sensations.

This wasn't like before, when those feelings had been forced upon her, quickly and implacably. This time . . . this time . . . it had been slow. Gentle. Tender. Giving her time to adjust and accommodate. To actually luxuriate in the progressively increasing sensations.

And different, much different, was how she was being treated. Looked at. Oh yes, still undeniably treated as a slave, virtually an object. Heck, simply the way they were talking about her, in the third person even though she was right there, made all that clear. But this time they weren't looking at her, or treating her, as if she was a brat. A mean, bullying, naughty girl getting what she deserved. Instead they - especially Courtney - were looking at her as if she was something precious. Expressions of awe and delight, wonderment and elation. Defenses that had already been harshly tattered before were now sundered, collapsing under the fact that she didn't have any reason to feel defensive.

Embarrassed? Oh yes. That she still felt. A bit of humiliation, too. But nothing at all of a misbehaving child automatically becoming guarded and defensive once confronted with their misdeeds. And still, without letup, continued those light, gentle caresses and touches that constantly, unceasingly fanned the growing flames deep within her.

Courtney watched with awed huge eyes as Twerp's gradually closed. As her head lolled back. As her smooth, soft silky skin gradually turned a soft rosy hue, tiny beads of perspiration dotting her like a cold glass during a muggy summer. Little hands fisted in their cuffs, twisted and wriggled. Small feet twisted back and forth in their cuffs, as tiny toes extended, clenched, wriggled and curled. She was breathing funny again, too: short rapid pants through tiny nostrils that flared with each one. And her whole naked body was in constant motion, gently writhing like a snake.

Especially her hips. Which rolled and circled, rocked and bucked.

Courtney forgot all about the lesson. Even the questions that she'd really wanted to ask. Like, just where, exactly, did a penis go down there? She forgot about everything, simply concentrated on the fascinating awesome sight before her.

Even Samantha found it difficult to remain purely objective. Not when, right before her very eyes - right beneath her fingertips, for that matter - was the picture and image of pure, one hundred and ten percent, absolute, unbridled, consuming lust. All concentrated into a small, lithe, nubile, athletic muscled, barely pubescent, innocently vulnerable package. Completely naked, helplessly secured and confined with restraints, exposed and displayed, gagged with a penis gag that filled her small mouth and that she continued rhythmically sucking.

The most incredibly erotic image she'd ever seen.

Her niece.

Wide, vivid, deep blue eyes cut to Courtney. Seeing another child, younger and quite smaller then the first. Yet by her own expression also deeply submerged in the depths of enthusiasm, desire and excitement.

Her daughter.

Inexorably drawn like a moth to a flickering candle flame Samantha had slipped past the line. Past the demarcation separating an appropriate - if somewhat extreme and outré - punishment from that of training a slave.

Really training.

That realization struck home like a thunderbolt. And, once it did, and Samantha drew herself back into the pure objectivity she'd intended to maintain, she comprehended something else.

Watching this, watching Twerp as she writhed and panted, was exciting her. Was arousing her. And she didn't know, right at that moment, if that was a bad thing or not.

How much of subsequent decisions might be colored by that? What of her responsibility to Twerp? Errr, Sasha, she mentally corrected. And to Ruth, her sister and Sasha's mother? Of the trust her sister placed in Samantha's hands? Her duty and obligation to watch over, to care for, to shelter and nurture Sasha?

Forget the law and those possible repercussions. Disregard society's morals and expectations. Samantha wasn't debating the possible consequences to herself. No, she cared, truly cared, about her niece. Desired what was best for her, strove to help reeducate her so she'd learn and mature. Develop into a responsible, self-reliant, capable young woman. That was, after all, why she'd chosen the punishment that she had: to deeply shock Sasha back into sensibility. Break through her barriers and strike right to the heart of the matter.

Oh, this was very dangerous ground, a treacherous quagmire. No small part of maturity was being honest with oneself. Recognizing one's strengths and abilities as well as one's weaknesses and limits. Being responsible for one's decisions and the consequences of both action and inaction. And accepting self-accountability rather then seeking blame everywhere else but on oneself.

And Samantha knew it was very human to justify, with perfectly rationality, actions a person desired and wanted even when knowing they shouldn't act on them.

How much of that, she wondered, was shading her own thoughts right at this very moment? And would color her actions as time passed? Could she truly stay objective? Steer things back onto a less intimate, less erotic, footing? When the child herself was only now discovering just how deep, how intense, her daydreams could be once they became real?

She'd certainly have to have a serious, heart-to-heart talk with herself very soon. For now, however, Twerp needed a break. It was almost eleven o'clock, which meant she'd been restrained like this for about three hours, easy. Even with the 'rest breaks' she'd gotten that was starting to push her limits.

Courtney was so utterly engrossed with Twerp Samantha had to reach across and tap her on her shoulder. Catching her eye Samantha gave a little backwards tip of her head. Nodding Courtney leaned back and looked at her Mom, wondering what was gonna be next. Moments after the stroking fingers stopped caressing her Twerp pushed her sleek little hips out, blindly seeking that contact as she gave an odd, muffled keening mewl of mingled abandonment, entreaty and yearning untamed lust. Those keens rose in volume, urgency and fervor as the seconds passed and no more touches were forthcoming. Finally her eyes, enormous emerald pools brimming with desire and need, opened, gazed down imploringly at Samantha and Courtney. Again and again she wantonly arched her hips out, wiggling them, circling and rolling them, soundlessly, shamelessly begging and pleading for more.

While she didn't know yet what her Mom intended, Courtney understood that the touches were to stop for now, so she simply reached out and lightly patted Twerp on one little writhing hip. "It's OK Twerp. Maybe more later."

Twerp whimpered, wanting more now! Her eyes silently begged, pleaded, implored for more. Her sinuously gyrating body made that perfectly clear as well. She noisily whimpered as Samantha, and then Courtney, turned and started walking off. Fighting and struggling to reach them rather then draw back, resist and escape as before.

Samantha remained silent until they were across the main room and standing just outside one of the other remaining seven doors, this one just to the right when facing the door leading back out. "Twerp needs to rest now," she softly murmured to her daughter. "Do you mind if I make some suggestions?"

Courtney was smart and clever enough to understand her Mom was, in effect, phrasing what should be done as 'suggestions'. She was also bright enough to understand and accept that, until she really learned and mastered enough to make her own decisions, she needed her Mom to 'coach' her along. Shaking her head she murmured back, just as softly, "Nu-uh. I don't mind Mom. Can I ask a question though first?"

"Of course you can," Sasha reassured.

Displaying again her precocious perspicuity Courtney asked, "Am I allowed the final word on stuff? I mean, like, you can say what you think I should or shouldn't do and suggest stuff, but I still get to decide what I finally do?"

"That's a very good question," Samantha said with a warm, approving smile. "Twerp is your slave. I wasn't just saying that. So, how about this then? Unless what you want to do is dangerous or will harm Twerp, or has the risk of being dangerous or harmful, I'll accept whatever you finally choose and decide. I'll still require you to tell me ahead of time what you want to do before you do it, though," she cautioned. "Don't just go ahead and do something without letting me know, first, what it is you intend to do. You don't have to be detailed about it; a general idea of what you have in mind should be fine."

Courtney nodded. "I mean, I know I still hafta learn about a lot of stuff yet, first. I just wanted to know if I got to decide or you were gonna just tell me what to do next."

"I understand," Sasha smiled. "And yes, you do have a lot to learn still. But you're doing extremely well so far. I'm quite proud of you."

Courtney wriggled with pleasure at the praise, shyly smiling up at her Mom. "Really? I am?"

"Yes. Really," Sasha hugged her daughter. "Twerp's very lucky to belong to a Mistress like you."

Courtney wriggled like a petted puppy at that. "Thanks Mom!" she piped up, eyes bright and sparkling.

"You're welcome," Samantha replied. "Now, this is what I had in mind . . . "

It took several minutes before Sasha could get her mind to start working again. And she wasn't sure if she wanted to actually do that. She'd been floating in a wonderful, exquisite fog, immersed in nothing but absolute sheer, luxurious indulgence. But, now that the touches had stopped she was slowly floating back down to earth again, feeling an odd achy emptiness deep in the pit of her tummy. Now and then she uncontrollably shivered, little sharp twitching tremors that made her jerk. She still felt so full inside of golden, honeyed warmth. But that was slowly, inexorably fading, albeit nowhere near as fast as when she'd stopped after banister rubbing. And, as those exquisite sensations eased she started becoming conscious of other aches.

Her little arms and small wrists, for one. Her lithe, slender thighs, for another. They might not be splayed as wide as they had been earlier, but she certainly was growing more aware of the aching, strained soreness at her stretched inner thighs. Her small jaws were starting to ache again, too, a dull, distant throb that hinted at becoming worse very shortly. Although the penis thing didn't force her mouth open wide like the ball had, still she wasn't used to having her mouth fixedly held open for this long. And her tongue was feeling a little worn out, too, from sucking on that for so long.

She was also starting to feel chilled as the inner heat of her body started to cool, as well as the sticky sweat coating her evaporated. Of course, feeling the cool air all over her bare skin only forcibly reminded her that she was totally naked.

Sasha wasn't hurting, nor was she as badly aching and extremely uncomfortable as she had been earlier, when Courtney had left her alone down here. But that could change, she realized, if Courtney decided, once more, to just leave her again.

So she was very relieved to see her padding back over towards her. Sasha wished she risked making some sound to catch Courtney's eye and attention, but she didn't dare try that. It wasn't as if Courtney was totally ignoring her; Sasha noticed Courtney glance a few times her direction as she gathered up Sasha's clothing where they lay on the floor. She tucked the removed shorts, top, swimsuit and sandals under one little arm then picked up the pail and sippy cup, too, before walking away again. She couldn't help making a soft mewl of trepidation at that, thinking she was being left alone again. Not to mention all of her clothing was being taken away, leaving her nothing to wear when - or if - she was ever let go.

But . . . she wasn't being left alone again. For several minutes later Courtney came back, setting the pail and sippy cup once more atop the table. Standing in front of Twerp Courtney folded her arms across her little, boyish chest again, but this time she had a soft smile on her face instead of a hard, cold scowl.

"You were a very good slave, Twerp," she said in her soft piping voice. "I'm very pleased with you."

Sasha felt her face delicately warm at that, gently wriggled like a puppy at the clear, sincere praise in Courtney's voice. She was surprised at how she reacted to that, but her astonishment didn't spoil or lessen her pleasure one iota.

"You didn't fuss at being gagged. Well, not too much, anyway," she amended, "and you tried real hard to keep quiet like I told you. That's being a very good slave!"

Again another gentle shivery wave of warmth and pleasure rippled through Sasha at that.

"Now, I'm gonna take that gag out," Courtney said. "You still don't have permission to speak, don't forget. I'll put it right back in if you do. And punish you more, too," she warned.

Sasha lightly shivered at that but quickly nodded, anything to get that back out of her mouth. It was still making her slobber, and her little chin and small chest was, once again, sticky with the drooled mess that had dribbled free.

Courtney stepped closer, then stood on tiptoes as she reached up and around, tiny fingers blindly fumbling at the buckle. It took a few seconds before she worked the strap free of the buckle, then she carefully drew the front part away, watching the penis thing - now slippery and glistening, soaked with saliva - slip back out from Twerp's wide-open small mouth. That looked so awesomely kewl!

Twerp furiously blushed as a huge mouthful of spit followed the gag out, dribbling in sticky threads down her chin and onto her chest. She softly moaned, both at the ache in her small jaws as she worked the stiffness out, as well as at the twinkle and delighted sparkle in Courtney's eyes as that happened. Courtney was certainly amused, oh yes. But it wasn't a derisive, gleeful jeer. More as if she liked what she saw but paid no heed to the person it was happening to.

Courtney carefully set the gag back on the table then picked up the towel, turning back to Twerp and gently blotting her face, chin and chest dry. Placing the towel down she then picked up the sippy cup before holding it to Twerp's small, full, pouty lips. "Drink," she said, and again, as before, Twerp understood that to be nothing less then a command.

And, as before, no sooner did the spout touch her lips then she slipped them over it. Not only was she terribly thirsty but her mouth felt like it was full of thick, slimy goo. She suckled, sucked and swallowed, eagerly drinking. This time the water was cold. Not frigid or icy, just an utterly refreshing cold cut through the gum in her mouth and tasted so rejuvenating.

"Drink as much as you like," Courtney encouraged. "Nod when a slave is finished."

Sasha didn't nod until the last of the water gurgled out of the cup with a final suckle. Leaning her head back from the cup she sighed, licking her lips, the tiny, gliding point of her pink tongue moistening them. Courtney sat the now-empty cup down then reached into the pail. She fumbled for about twenty seconds before removing her tiny hands from the inside.

Instead of holding a sponge like before, now her diminutive hands were covered in gloves. Not the mesh fabric, scrubbing, bath-type gloves, but soft, pink, terrycloth ones. Rather like wearing a washcloth on one's hands, Courtney had thought as she'd slipped them on. "A slave is rather sweaty and messy," she said, neither accusing nor condemning nor, for that matter, mocking or scorning. It was quite the matter-of-fact statement, making a simple observation. "Hold still while I clean you off," she ordered, then stepped right up to Twerp.

It felt a lot like the sponge did, Sasha thought. Cool and soothing, but this time without that slight astringent odor. And it eased the fierce itching the drying sweat was producing, too. That was sheer torture, having itches you couldn't scratch!

But, it also felt different from the sponge, too. Because Sasha could clearly feel Courtney's tiny glove-covered hands gliding all over her naked body. It wasn't like the sponge, wasn't even like a plain washcloth, either. Not when she could, so very clearly, feel those tiny hands against her skin as they glided over her. She couldn't help lightly shivering, her skin was still acutely sensitive to being touched. And it felt so good having her sweat wiped off!

She also couldn't help sharply jerking, or at making soft little breathy inhales, when Courtney laved down her breasts and coot . . . pussy. Both were very supersensitive, still. But, again Sasha was very grateful and glad to have that drying, sticky, itchy stuff - cream, she mentally corrected - cleaned off from down there.

Now and then Courtney redipped her gloves back in the pail before continuing washing down her slave. Once she'd washed every little bit save for the very bottoms of her small feet she peeled the gloves off, dropping them in the pail before picking up the towel and gently blotting Twerp thoroughly dry again. Once that was finished she put the towel on the table then faced Twerp again.

"I'm going to take you down in a minute Twerp," she said, and Twerp gave an intense sigh of eager, anticipative relief. "You're going to do exactly what I say, when I say it. Don't try anything funny. You won't like what happens if you do," she warned. "Understand?"

Sasha started to open her mouth to reply, then caught herself at the last moment, nodding instead.

"Good!" Courtney said with a smile. Stepping even closer she reached up as far as she could, all the way up on tiptoes, tiny fingers seeking, then finding, the little button things Mom told her about on the pole thing. She pressed one, then walked over to the other side and rose all the way up and found that one, too, and pressed it.

With an audible ratcheting sound the upper pole descended. Sasha groaned as, for the first time in what seemed like ages, she could lower her arms from over her head. Courtney reached into the pocket of her jeans cutoffs, coming out with four small, luggage-sized, brass padlocks. Sasha swallowed at seeing them but obediently remained quiet and still, watching with enormous, nervous eyes as Courtney locked one on each cuff, slipping the shackle through the buckle tongue.

Courtney had been very surprised being told that those buckles could be locked. She'd never seen, or heard, of lockable buckles before! And by the look in Twerp's eyes she hadn't been aware of they could be locked on, either! She gave a soft, barely audible whimper as the first cuff was locked, then gently trembled as the remaining three were then locked as well.

No way to get them off, now. Just like that collar. All of them on to stay, unless and until Courtney or her Aunt decided to take them off.

Courtney stood back up from locking the ankle cuffs, then reached into another pocket to remove yet another small padlock. "OK Twerp. Listen up. I'm going to unclip the wrist cuffs from the pole. Soon as each hand is free put it right behind your back. Understood?"

Sasha swallowed hard, nodding again. It seemed she wasn't going to be freed freed after all. Then again, hadn't they said she'd stay this way all summer?

She could have fought once her wrists were released. She was bigger then her cousin, after all. Stronger and older. But . . . she was also exhausted. Tired and drained. Plus her little, slender legs were still firmly held more then shoulder-width open, which didn't do miracles for her balance. She didn't think she could wrestle a mosquito right now and win, let alone her little cousin. Plus, even if she did manage, by some incredible stroke of fortune, to overpower Courtney, she'd still have to deal with her Aunt Samantha!

The first clips of one cuff were removed. "Hand behind your back," Courtney told her and, with the slightest of hesitation Sasha did so. Reaching back up Courtney removed the second set of two clips holding her remaining wrist to the pole. "That one behind your back now, too," Courtney said. With a touch more nervous hesitation Sasha slowly moved that hand behind her back.

Courtney padded around behind her slave, then guided her cuffed wrists just so, tiny tonguetip just barely peeking out past her small lips as she concentrated on correctly positioning them. So that the metal rings on the outside - the same ones that the attachment clips had been fastened - faced and touched each other. Courtney then threaded the shackle of the little padlock through both before firmly closing it with a click.

Sasha lightly shuddered hearing that, reflexively tried drawing her cuffed hands apart . . . and, not unexpectedly, found she couldn't. The position abruptly recalled a memory from long ago, when she was much younger, a much littler girl, oh, around six-and-a-half or so. One of her friends had just gotten a Sheriff Toy Set containing - along with a plastic fake sheriff star, a toy gun and holster - a pair of plastic toy handcuffs and had 'arrested' Sasha. She remembered the weird, shivery feeling as she'd put her hands behind her back and felt the cuffs placed around her wrists. Oh, she'd known she wasn't really handcuffed; the whole thing was just plastic, after all. Even as little as she'd been she could have probably just yanked and broke the chain apart. Not to mention that, being a toy, they didn't really even lock. Plus they even had easily-reached safety buttons that opened them. But, still, the sensation of having her tiny hands 'cuffed' behind her had been weirdly intense and intriguing.

She hadn't thought about that in years. Had forgotten all about it, in fact. Until now. When, feeling her hands locked behind her back brought that memory - and the associated feelings - vividly back again to her consciousness. There were, however, two things she immediately sensed were different: the toy cuffs had had a connecting chain, permitting quite a bit of movement to her hands, but there was no chain connecting these cuffs. Just a little padlock that severely restricted any motion.

And that, unlike the toy handcuffs . . . she'd not be getting out of these on her own!

"I'm gonna undo your feet now," Courtney said as she crouched in front of Twerp. "Before I do, move them together when I say so." Twerp looked down as she nodded, watching as Courtney twisted the sleeve to the freely moving position then looked up at her. Twerp couldn't miss the fact that, from Courtney's position, she was getting the proverbial bird's eye view of her utterly naked body but, at the moment, simply being released from the pole at last seemed more important.

"Move them together now," Courtney ordered, holding Twerp at the hips to assist her balance. Very carefully Twerp wriggled her small bare feet, squirming them closer and closer together as the pole slipped shorter along with that motion. "Stop there," Courtney said once her feet were about six inches apart. It was the work of a few seconds for those attaching clips to be removed, and Twerp breathed a sigh of relief as those cuffs weren't locked together. She didn't know how she'd manage to remain poised and standing if Courtney had done that!

Straightening back up Courtney stared her slave right in the eye as she reached into her back pocket. Twerp's grew quite wide as Courtney extended her little hand, showing what she'd removed.

A leash.

A three-foot long, metal chain leash. The links quite small and delicate, chromed and gleaming in the lights. At one end a small metal clip and a leather loop handle at the other. Before Twerp could do more then blink in shocked surprise Courtney smoothly attached the clip part to the ring at Twerp's locked metal collar. "Come with me," she ordered, then turned around and started walking off.

Slowly started walking off. Mom had been very clear on that point. Twerp's legs were probably going to feel weak and rubbery from the strain of her position all morning, and Courtney was to walk her slave very slowly, and be ready to instantly lend a hand if she seemed about to fall. There were a few whimpers and smothered moans of discomfort as Twerp started walking, as slender little legs, strained and stressed, were made to flex and move again. Courtney didn't insist Twerp keep up, she moved no faster then Twerp was readily able to adjust to doing. "Good slave," she encouraged. "That's it. You'll be able to rest soon."

Sasha wanted nothing more at the moment then to rest. To be able to just collapse in a limp, boneless, sprawled heap and virtually pass out. Perhaps, even, to wake up and discover the entire morning had been just a particularly extremely vivid dream.

Then she halted, freezing in mid-step as she realized where Courtney was leading her. Very aware of what lay behind that particular door!

Courtney felt the chain leash grow taut. She, too, stopped, looking over her shoulder at her slave. "Come on Twerp," she said with a touch of impatient asperity, wide gray eyes glinting with firmness.

Sasha took an unconscious step back, her eyes enormous and pleading. She softly whimpered, tiny little rapid shakes of her head as she stared imploringly at Courtney. Behind that seemingly normal door was what she mentally called the cell room. The door itself was quite thick, perhaps four inches. The inside of the door, as well as the floor, ceiling and all four walls inside, were covered in acoustical foam. Once the door was closed, somehow the room seemed to muffle any sounds. You could scream inside and it sounded like a soft murmur. And that wasn't all of it, either.

For inside that triangular-shaped room was nothing but cages and cells. Some looking like doggy kennel cages, and three - one in each of the acute corners - looking like real jail cells. And one, right in the middle, a hanging cage like from the Middle Ages or something.

Courtney gave the leash a little tug. "Come on Twerp. You don't have a choice and you know it. Don't make things any harder on yourself then you already have." Twerp just stood there, like a pale marble statue, still staring at Courtney with huge eyes. "Please. No," she softly whispered, her words barely audible.

"Hush!" she lightly scolded. Then, gently, "I'm not gonna harm you Twerp. I'm just putting you down for a rest. Don't be such a fraidy cat!" she lightly chided.

Her words didn't really reassure Sasha. She wasn't afraid of what might happen (even if she was a bit worried about why Courtney was so careful to stress the word 'harm', as if that had a certain, special meaning) as she was simply about that room itself. And it wasn't even exactly she feared the room, either. It was . . . she really didn't know how to explain it, even to herself. Just something about the stark, severe simplicity of the cages coupled with their unmistakable inescapability that sent ripples of involuntary uneasiness through her.

Yet, even so, hearing her little cousin call her a 'fraidy cat' (which, Sasha reluctantly admitted to herself, was something she'd been mockingly calling Courtney in order to get her to bend to her will, wants and desires) sparked a flicker of pride in Sasha. Not defiance, no. Her resources were too depleted, her will too battered, for bravado to kindle. But, she still had some shredded remnants of pride left, and these she somehow wrapped around herself like a beggar's tattered rags.

This time when Courtney gently tugged the leash Sasha took a little step forwards. "That's it! Good slave!" Courtney praised, her frowny expression at Sasha's having balked instantly changing into a warm, bright smile. One slow step after another she was led, closer and closer, to that door. And that dreadful room within.

It was exactly like she remembered, Sasha thought, shivering and trembling as Courtney opened the door and walked her inside. Except for two things. One she immediately noticed: her Aunt standing near one wall, tucking her cell phone into a pocket as they entered. And the other she beheld as Courtney walked her over to it.

It was the smallest of the doggy kennel cages. Not much wider then she was, and not a whole lot longer, either. And only about two foot tall, too. The entire cage was made of very thick, heavy steel wire while the outline of the cage was actual rod. The wires were interwove into a lattice, their openings about two inches square. All in all, an extremely sturdy design. Certainly more then a doggy needed, anyway, Sasha had thought when she'd seen it. Looked downright uncomfortable, too, as the bottom had been the same bare, stark wire weave, too. The top was opened, Sasha noticed with a swallowed gulp as Courtney led her right over to it. But she spotted something different about the cage now then she had before. The bottom was now lined with what looked like a thick folded blanket.

Samantha strolled over at that point. "Any problems sweetheart?" she asked her daughter, ignoring Sasha completely.

"Nope!" Courtney brightly answered. Then honestly amended, "Well, not really, no."

Sasha jerked, deeply shivered at the sudden cool expression on her Aunt's face. "What happened?" Samantha questioned, her tone severe and unforgiving.

Courtney just shrugged. "Twerp's just afraid of the room, that's all. She froze up for a little."

She was feeling pretty froze right now, abruptly coming under the stern, forbidding gaze of her Aunt. She felt herself shrinking and cringing under that intense gaze. "She disobeyed you?" she asked, and Sasha felt like her bladder wanted to let go. There was nothing kind or friendly about her Aunt's expression. It didn't seem as if she was prepared to accept any balking, hesitancy or anything from Sasha, and she felt like Juggernaut was about to descend upon her helpless head, to implacably roll right over her.

"No Mom," Courtney responded. Which, even through her petrifaction Sasha thought was very brave of her, correcting her Mom when she looked like that. "Twerp didn't disobey. She just got scared and froze a little. She didn't run, fight or nothing."

"Very well," her Aunt replied and, if her expression didn't exactly soften and become kind, it sure as heck wasn't scowling as hard and fierce as it had been. Sasha shot Courtney a grateful, indebted glance, so thankful to her for jumping to her defense and explaining things. All the more so at doing that when Aunt Samantha looked so stern and cold. A little spot of warmth blossomed in her tummy at that, at Courtney standing up for her when she didn't dare do so for herself.

"I can't lift her up; she's too heavy for me," Courtney said. "Can you put her inside for me, please?" she asked her Mom. Sasha trembled again at that, licked suddenly dry lips, feeling her tummy hold a butterfly convention.

"Sure thing baby," Samantha warmly replied. "Just take her leash off first."

Sasha felt the gentle tug as Courtney reached up and undid the snap. Her Aunt took two steps then, before Sasha could really brace herself, could accept the reality of the situation, she firmly took Sasha in her arms, easily lifted her up . . . and placed her tummy down atop the folded blankets . . . inside the cage.

She was distantly aware of the two of them softly murmuring to each other. Distantly aware that that had to be more then just a blanket beneath her. It was too soft for just that. (And, indeed, Samantha had placed a precut, already-sized, foam mattress pad inside first before covering that over with the blanket) It also wasn't perfectly flat, either; just enough of a rise at her chest so that her face wasn't squished if she looked down, wasn't forced to keep her head to the side to keep from getting a crick in her neck or smothering herself in the blanket.

All of that she was distantly, peripherally aware of. What she was starkly focused on was the thick mesh of wire right before her enormous eyes. The awareness of that unyielding grid at her sides and behind her. She jerked as her Aunt leaned down and pressed her cuffed ankles together, as Courtney reached through the mesh, her hands tiny enough to do that, and slipped another little padlock through the rings there and locked her ankles together. Then deeply shivered as, while they still just softly murmured to each other, utterly ignoring the helplessly cuffed, naked little girl inside the cage, Courtney lowered the top in place, then secured a larger padlock through the hasp.

They walked out together, paying no heed to Sasha. Samantha adjusted the dimmer switch until the room was in a soft twilight, then the door was closed behind them as they left.

Leaving Sasha alone . . .

Totally naked and exposed, utterly vulnerable . . .

Small wrists and ankles firmly enclosed with sturdy, black leather cuffs Sasha herself had placed there. Buckled down too snug to wriggle out from within their embrace . . . and now locked. No way to remove them . . .

Laying in a solidly-made, heavy wire cage. Not much bigger then she was. Unable to reach the latch even if she hadn't been cuffed up. The latch incapable of being opened if she could reach it, the gleaming padlock securing it quite visible to her . . .

Inside of a soundproofed, locked room . . .

Inside of an equally soundproofed, equally locked, hidden basement, where no one knew where she was, couldn't find her if they looked for her, couldn't hear her if she called out . . .

A single, glistening tear trickled down her cheek as all that came crashing down upon her. Yet, even as she shivered and trembled, moaned and sniffled . . . a core of gentle tingling warmth remained in her tummy.