Masters of the Hotel Bentmoore: The Complete Collection

The two men greeted each like old friends, smiling, back slapping, and yelling their salutations the way men do in lieu of hugs. It was obvious they were well acquainted, but hadn’t reconnected for quite some time, the reason for the loud and joyful reunion. In their reconciliation, neither of them paid any attention to the woman in the room, who was watching them both silently with wide eyes.

“Cox! It’s good to see you,” the older and taller of the two said, continuing to shake the other man’s hand.

“Altman,” the other replied in the same tone of joy. “It’s been too long. How have you been?”

“Good, good. Business is going well.”

“Yes, I know. I keep track of those letters letting me know my shares are going up.”

“It’s good to know someone reads those letters,” the older man said with a laugh.

The man named Cox motioned his friend into a nearby chair. Both took seats opposite each other in the tiny room.

The woman remained standing. No one had offered her a chair, despite there being two more available around the small table. In fact, since entering the room, no one had given her so much as a passing glance. She stood by the door, her arms crossed in front of her, watching as the two men settled down and got reacquainted.

“So, Altman,” Mr. Cox said. “What brings you to the Hotel Bentmoore?”

“It’s my girl here, Evie.” Mr. Cox turned around, and for the first time, acknowledged the woman he had entered with by motioning her over with his finger. “Come here, Evie, and say hello to Mr. Cox.”

Evie stepped forward and offered the other man a polite smile, but did not put out her hand in greeting. “Hello, Mr. Cox.”

“Give him your hand, Evie,” the older man snapped. “Don’t be rude. He won’t bite.”

The young woman put her hand out. Rather than shaking it, Mr. Cox put it between his own and gave it a gentle squeeze. For a brief second, he took in her liquid brown eyes and soft chestnut hair. Then his eyes raked over her young, firm body in open appreciation.

“There, see?” Mr. Altman said from his chair, watching the byplay. “I know you’re frightened, Babygirl, but you mustn’t forget your manners.”

“Yes, Daddy.” The young woman looked down, contrite. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“There’s a good girl.” He reached his hand up and caressed the woman’s ass, letting his palm glide, then gave her firm flesh a gentle squeeze. The woman made no reaction to his touch.

Mr. Cox watched his friend petting and fondling the woman’s bottom, studied Evie’s passive face for a brief second, then turned back to his friend.

“So Evie is your Babygirl?”

“Yes,” Mr. Altman said with pride. “She’s been mine for a while now. Generally she’s a good girl, but lately she’s been a bit clingy.” His jaw clenched for a brief second. He sighed. “I have to go on a business trip for a few days, Cox, and I’ll be working non-stop, what with meetings and dinners and all that. I don’t want to leave Evie alone, I don’t want her to get bored. So I thought I’d drop her off here, with you. I know there’s no way she’ll get bored at the Hotel Bentmoore,” he said.

“I see.” Mr. Cox’s expression turned contemplative. “Did you mean for us to simply keep her out of trouble while you’re away? Or did you mean for me to work with her, a little one-on-one?”

“Ah, Cox, I knew you would see it immediately,” Mr. Altman laughed. “The truth is, I think Evie would benefit from some of your tutelage. It feels lately like some of Evie’s fire has gone out. She’s lost her verve. She’s too, how do I want to put it…she’s too quiet. You know how I like my women, Cox.”

“Yes,” Mr. Cox grinned. “You do like them lively.”

“Exactly. I was hoping you could spend some time with her, show her some fresh tricks. I’m sure after a few days with you, my Evie will go back to being her old usual spitfire self. Think you can do that for me?”

“Oh, yes.” Mr. Cox’s grin turned wolfish. “I can do that.”

“Good. I’m sure a few days with you is just what my Babygirl needs.” He passed Mr. Cox a laden look, and Mr. Cox nodded.

Evie looked from one man to the other. She knew some silent message had just been communicated, but she had no idea what it could be. Goosebumps rose on her arms.

“Any hard limits I should know about?” Mr. Cox asked.

“Not really, nothing beyond the lines I know you won’t cross. Piercing, branding, burning, things like that.”

“But punishment marks are okay? Welts and the like?”

Mr. Altman waved the comment away with his hand. “Oh, you’ll need to mark her,” he said. “Evie needs a heavy stick applied to her rump now and then to keep her in line. But basically, she’s a good girl. Aren’t you, Evie?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Her voice was slow and toneless.

Mr. Cox studied her bland expression and raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

Mr. Altman patted his leg. “Come sit on Daddy’s lap for a minute, Evie,” he said. Evie dutifully came over and sat, snuggling into Mr. Altman’s wide chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. Mr. Altman smiled.

“Daddy’s going to go now—”

“Please, Daddy, don’t leave me here. Take me with you.” A crack in her shell of indifference finally broke through, and her voice trembled. Mr. Altman smiled in response.

“None of that now, Babygirl. I’m leaving you in very capable hands. Mr. Cox will look after you while you’re here at the hotel. You are to follow his instructions and do everything he says like a good Babygirl. Understand, Evie?”

Evie looked at Mr. Cox, somewhat fearful, but said, “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good. When I come back, I want to hear how you were a good Babygirl and listened well. I want you to be the best Babygirl you can be. Make your Daddy proud. Understand, my sweet?”

“Yes, Daddy.” She hugged him tight. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, Babygirl. You be good, and I’ll bring you back a treat.”

“Thank you Daddy. I love you.”

“I love you too, Babygirl. Be good.” He untangled her arms from around his neck, stood up, shook Mr. Cox’s hand one more time, and disappeared into the hallway, where the liaison was waiting to escort him out of the hotel.

Mr. Cox’s gaze fell back on Evie, and this time, he did not look away. Evie looked back at him nervously, crossing her arms in front of her again.

“So,” he said. “I guess you’re mine for the next few days.”

Evie said nothing. The statement hung in the air like a threat.

“Well, let’s start by putting you through your paces, and see what you can do,” Mr. Cox said. “Come, it’s time to head over to one of the activity rooms.”

“What? Now?”

“Why not? Unless you have a more pressing matter to attend to?” His voice was clipped. He was already displeased with her.

Evie shrugged but kept her mouth closed. She didn’t move. Mr. Cox took her by the arm and pulled her from the room.

“The liaison is probably still escorting your Daddy back upstairs,” he said. “So this time, I’ll take you to the activity room. But usually it will be the liaison who brings you to me. Did your Daddy explain to you how the Hotel Bentmoore works?”

“Yes, he told me about the rules.”

“Did he also make clear what I’m going to expect from you?”

“Yes.” She blushed. “He said you may be much harder on me than he is—”

“Oh, I have no doubts about that.”

“—but I am to obey your every word. He said you’ll probably try to teach me a few things.”

“Did he now? Well, first I need to see where your weaknesses lie.”

They arrived at the designated activity room, and Mr. Cox slid his card through the security lock. The door clicked open, and Evie was pushed through. As soon as Mr. Cox was around the door, he pushed it closed. Evie heard it lock from the inside.

“Now then,” Mr. Cox said, “he may have explained some things to you, but I want to make sure everything is clear between us before we start. I will be your host for the remainder of your stay here at the Hotel Bentmoore. What that means, Evie, is that I am not your friend, I am not your confidant, and I am certainly not your lackey. I have complete authority over everything that happens to you while you are a guest here. You will call me ‘Sir’ at all times.”

Evie’s eyes grew wide as he spoke. Mr. Cox noted her look of fear, but ignored it.

“All the activity rooms of the Hotel Bentmoore are on this underground floor. Some of us call it the sub-floor. Others call it the dungeon. I’ll do my best to make sure we can always meet in the same activity room, so you can feel more comfortable, but I can’t promise. Different rooms have different pieces of equipment, and other hosts might need ours. Understand?”

Evie nodded.

“For the remainder of your stay, we will see each other only when we are together in an activity room. Hosts cannot visit guests in the private rooms of the upper floors. It is against hotel rules. If you need to get word to me, or send me a message, you can do it through the liaison. The same goes for me: if I need to give you new instructions, I will send word through the liaison. But I expect you to follow any instructions I send as if you are hearing them from me. Now matter where you are, while you are at the Hotel Bentmoore, you are under my authority, and you will follow my orders to the letter, day and night, no matter what. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.” The words were quiet, but obedient enough, and Mr. Cox nodded.

“Good. Now. Get undressed.”

Evie looked up, startled. The order had come from nowhere, and was the last thing she had expected.

But if Mr. Cox thought the order would shock her into noncompliance, he was wrong. Evie began to strip off her clothes, working fast.

But she stared down at the floor as she did it, looking bored.

“Don’t look down like that,” Mr. Cox snapped. “Look at me. Look me in the face.”

Evie pulled her face up and stared into his eyes as she finished undressing. But she didn’t look provocative, or even aroused. She looked nervous, and more than a little irritated. By the time she was done, her clothes were a moat around her feet, and Mr. Cox could see her trying hard not to scowl.

“Very good, Evie,” he said, trying to encourage her. “Now come here, to me. But don’t walk. Get down on all fours. I want you to crawl.” He decided he would have a little fun irritating her, see how far he could take it before she blew up in fury.

Evie sank to the floor. Keeping her face bent down, she crawled to her host, sashaying in a rather awkward manner. Her tits swayed beneath her as she moved.

“Very good,” Mr. Cox said again despite her ungainliness. “Now sit up.”

Evie sat on her heels and looked up at her host.

“Reach up and open my pants.”

With nimble fingers, Evie reached for his zipper. The grating noise of the metal pulling down was the only sound in the room.

“Now reach in and pull out my cock.”

Evie looked at her host for a minute; their eyes did a battle of wills. Then, carefully, she reached inside and pulled out his swelling, stiffening cock.

“Show me what you can do with that lovely mouth of yours.”

For a moment, Evie looked like she might finally protest. But with a small shrug of her shoulders, she held his hardening prick in her hand, then slowly, looking him in the eyes, she lowered her mouth on the bulbous head.

She kept lowering her lips, filling her mouth with stiff prick, until her mouth touched the base of his groin. Mr. Cox inhaled sharply; he could feel the back of her throat.

Carefully, she began sliding her lips back up, keeping her teeth well away from the tight skin of his shaft. Mr. Cox closed his eyes in ecstasy, marveling at her tight grip and the delicious warmth of her mouth.

Evie began to suck him off with long, hard pulls of her jaw, bobbing her head up and down his prick, shoving him down her throat and making swallowing motions all around his staff with her tongue, until Mr. Cox was digging his hands into her hair and throwing his head back in delight.

But after a few moments of this exquisite torture, he noticed her bored disinterest in the task, the lack of pleasure in her face and stance. He shoved her off, pushing hard. She yelped in surprise at being knocked down to the floor.

Mr. Cox scowled down at her. “Evie, why aren’t you enjoying this?”

“I am, Sir,” she said, surprised.

“You like sucking my cock?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Then why are you looking at me like you’re bored out of your fucking mind? You’re not giving me any sign you’re enjoying yourself at all. If you don’t like having my cock in your mouth, tell me. We’ll move on to something else.”

“But I am enjoying this, Sir. I like to suck cock.”

“Really,” he said dubiously. “Then keep going, and this time, show me how much you like it.”

Evie got back to work, licking and sucking Mr. Cox’s prick. She soon felt his warm cum shooting down her throat, and sucked him dry, cleaning off his cock with her mouth. Then she sat back on her knees, awaiting further orders.

Once he had recovered from his orgasm, and his breathing returned to normal, Mr. Cox looked down at her with piercing eyes. He did not look pleased.

“Go to the bed and brace yourself against the edge. Ass in the air,” he growled. Evie began to stand up, but stopped and gave her host a questioning look. When he nodded, letting her know she could walk and not crawl, she stood up all the way and walked over to the bed, bracing herself with her hands and leaning down into the mattress. She could hear Mr. Cox zipping up his pants and taking his place behind her.

With her body bent over, Mr. Cox took a moment to admire her narrow waist and softly flaring hips. Evie’s ass was smooth and compact; her twin mounds were perfectly round, with only a thin dark crease separating them. Her cheeks were blushed crimson.

“Your Daddy recently spanked you,” Mr. Cox said. “Were you in need of a punishment?”

“Yes,” she said, wincing as Mr. Cox traced a pale welt, almost hidden under the curve of her young bottom, with his finger.

“Yes, Sir,” he corrected. His finger continued to trail lazily around the soft mountains of her ass, dipping now and then into the valley of her tight crease.

“Yes, Sir,” she replied, shivering from the goosebumps that were rising on her skin. His hand continued to caress her, more aggressively now, and Evie stiffened, but did not move to stop him.

“Let’s see if I can get you to lose some of that composure,” he said, pulling his hand away from her backside.

He walked to the large, elegant wardrobe by the wall, opened the double doors, retrieved something from inside, and walked back to her tense and bent form. Evie could not see what he had in his hand. He held it slightly behind his back.

“Close your eyes,” he said. Evie closed her eyes.

A second later, she felt a slap against her ass, and let out a little shriek. Whatever he had spanked her with, it stung like crazy. Mr. Cox spanked her again, and Evie buried her face into the mattress.

He began to pepper her ass with short, powerful spanks, working fast and hard and keeping her guessing as to where the next smack would land. Evie kept her face down, maintaining the bent position, but was soon hopping from foot to foot, trying to shake away the sting.

The spanking continued, and Evie hoped desperately it would soon come to an end. She didn’t know if she would be able to sit down after this.

But she held the pose, and bit her lip to keep from screaming.

Finally, Mr. Cox stopped, and told her to stand up.

“Did you enjoy that, Evie?” His voice was soft.

“No, Sir,” she hiccuped, trying her best not to cry. Mr. Cox studied her quivering, unhappy face.

“Does your Daddy put you on noise restriction? Does he tell you not to make any noise as you’re being punished?”

“No, Sir,” she replied, surprised by the question.

“Then why did you keep so silent while I was spanking you? Why did you bury your face in the bed so you wouldn’t scream? I know I was hurting you. Crying should have been the logical reaction.”

“I don’t know, Sir.” She wiped her eyes and looked down, remorseful, like a small child. Mr. Cox sighed.

“I see now what your Daddy was talking about,” he said. “It’s clear what kind of lessons he wants me to give you.”

Mr. Cox threw the slapper on the bed, shaking his head with scorn. “Get dressed,” he said. “The liaison will escort you back to your room. Relax for a while, eat in the dining room when you get hungry. I’ll give you a few hours, and then the liaison will escort you back here to begin your lessons.”

“Lessons? What kind of lessons?”

“The kind of lessons I was entrusted to give you that you obviously need.” At her blank stare, he sighed. “What did you think, Evie, that your Daddy was dropping you off here for a nice little vacation? That you’d do nothing but lounge around the pool sunbathing, and visit me at your own convenience? No, he expects you to learn a few things from me, and I see now, you have much to learn.”

~ * * * ~

He summoned the liaison, and Evie was escorted back to her room above.

For the time being, she was left alone, and she took the time to contemplate her situation.

She had been left at the Hotel Bentmoore for what she thought would be a chance to relax and enjoy herself a little bit. Yes, she had been warned she would be spending time with a host of the Hotel Bentmoore, specifically Mr. Cox, her Daddy’s old friend. But she had thought the time spent with him would be fun, a way to learn a few new sexual techniques.

Now she realized that was not what her host had in mind. He meant to teach her “lessons,” and painful lessons at that. She was filled with foreboding. But her Daddy had entrusted her to Mr. Cox. She had no way to contact her Daddy for some much-needed reassurance.

Evie stayed in her room, watched some television, ordered room service when she got hungry, and cried when her sorrow and loneliness became too much.

She would only have to get through a few days without her Daddy. It was not that much time at all. But the ache in her heart would not go away, and her pillow was soon drenched with her tears. She missed him so much already, and he had only left her a few hours ago! How was she to survive the next few days without him?

Before she knew it, her liaison was knocking on her door, ready to escort her back to the activity room she would share with her host, and Evie barely had enough time to wipe away her tears before she was following him down the darkened hallway.

As she entered the activity room, she remained subdued, still deluged with grief and exhausted from her crying.

“Hello again, Evie,” Mr. Cox greeted her. He wore the same suit pants he had worn before, but no shirt this time. Evie noticed the man had thick muscles, a wide chest (but no chest hair), and a very well-defined stomach. “I hope you enjoyed your meal.”

“Yes, I did, thank you, Sir.” It was a lie, of course. She had barely touched her food. Her worry and trepidation had taken away any appetite she had.

But during her time alone in her room, she had decided: this was where her Daddy had left her, so this is where she would stay, whether she enjoyed herself or not. She would do as told. She would listen to Mr. Cox, even if he acted like a big bully. She would be good.

“You’re lying,” Mr. Cox said. Evie’s head snapped up. “I called up to the dining room. You never arrived. You had room service sent up to your room instead. You were sulking, weren’t you?”

“I wasn’t sulking,” she said, her voice high and defensive. “I was….”

“Sulking.”

“Sad. I miss my Daddy.”

“I know. But that doesn’t mean you get to disobey me. My instructions were to eat in the dining room.”

Evie blanched. She had thought he had been making a suggestion, not giving her orders.

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Not good enough. Up against the bed.”

Evie walked over to the now familiar mattress and leaned over it for the second time that day, pressing her elbows and head down as before. She knew she would be punished for her disobedience, and cursed her host in her head. The man had no leniency. But she would take his punishment like a good girl.

Mr. Cox came up behind her and began to lift her skirt, bunching up the thin material as it rose. When it was over her waist, he pressed the roll of gauzy cotton against her back and left it there. Under the skirt, Evie wore a pair of translucent cream panties that hugged her hips and ass cheeks like second skin.

Mr. Cox peeled her panties down until they were around her knees, stretched taut by her spread legs.

Evie heard the unmistakable sound of Mr. Cox pulling off his belt.

“You’ll get ten this time, since it’s only your first offense,” he said.

“Ten?”

“Next time it will be twenty, miss,” he said sternly. He took position by her side, aiming the looped belt right across her cheeks. “Now count.”

Evie squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself. “One—”

The belt came down across her butt, leaving a brand new stripe of burning sting in its wake. Evie inhaled sharply but didn’t move.

“Two—”

Again the belt came down, this time low across her thighs. Evie hissed through her teeth.

“Three—”

The end of the belt snapped against her right buttock. Evie almost shrieked, but held herself back.

“Four—”

Her left buttock got the same treatment. This time Evie did let out a tiny yell, but caught it before it got too loud.

“Five—”

Another vicious streak hit her right on the curve of her ass mounds, and this time Evie almost shot upright. Mr. Cox impatiently pushed her back down.

“Six!” She shouted. Another brutal cut. The tears began to flow. Evie wanted to bury her face into the bed to keep from screaming, but she could not. She had to count.

“Seven!”

Mr. Cox added a extra hard flick to his wrist, and the belt pressed into her skin her like a hot branding iron. Evie screamed.

“Eight!” Another stinging smack, and Evie screamed again.

“Nine!” She didn’t know how she did it, but she held the pose. Instead of struggling, she cried out in pain. Her ass was smarting, and she wanted desperately to rub the sting away, but there was one more left.

“Ten,” she said with some relief, thankful that it was almost over. But Mr. Cox made the last one the worst, raising the belt high and putting all his force behind the blow. Evie’s bellow was high and long.

She stood up, rubbed her ass, and looked at Mr. Cox mutinously.

Mr. Cox threw his belt onto the bed next to her and stared into her insolent face, putting his hands on his hips. “You think you’ll ignore my instructions again?”

“No, Sir,” she snivelled, looking down in defeat.

“Good. Now let’s get down to work. That belting you just got served another purpose: It gave me some idea of your tolerance for pain. You can’t handle very much pain, can you, Evie?”

“No Sir,” Evie said, downcast. “I can’t.” It was true. Her Daddy was always telling her that.

“That’s good,” Mr. Cox said, surprising her. “It means your punishments are that much more effective from the get-go, and can be over with faster, as long as you give some sign they’re working. I know your Daddy doesn’t like to give drawn-out punishments.”

“No, Sir,” she said, surprised her host would know something like that.

“Which isn’t to say he isn’t capable of meting out a deserved punishment now and then,” Mr. Cox continued.

“Very true, Sir,” Evie agreed.

“But he needs to know the punishments he’s giving are working, so he knows when to stop. Your Daddy is the kind of man who likes to see immediate results. So tell me something, Evie: How can your Daddy tell his punishments are working on you, if you’re trying so hard not to react or cry out?”

The question startled her.

“I don’t know, Sir,” she said. “I never really thought about it.”

“Well, do. And while you’re at it, tell me why you try so hard to keep quiet.”

“I guess I just assumed if he’s punishing me, I deserve it, and the right thing to do is to take it like a good girl and not make too much noise about it.”

Mr. Cox furrowed his brows. “Is Mr. Altman the first man you’ve had this type of relationship with?”

Evie shifted her feet in nervousness. He was starting to get a little too personal, and she wasn’t sure how much information to give him.

“Yes, Sir,” she said, her voice halting. “I’ve never had before what I have with Daddy. I love him so much. He’s…he’s my Daddy.” For her, the word said it all. Thankfully, Mr. Cox understood.

He smiled. “That’s lovely, Evie,” he said. “But it doesn’t explain why you assume silence is the best course of action during a punishment. It also doesn’t explain your robotic submission.”

Robotic? Robotic! Evie’s face flushed with anger. “I am not robotic, Sir,” she gritted out. “I obey the way I am supposed to.”

“The way you are supposed to. Who says so?”

Evie snapped her mouth shut, looking confused. “Well, everything I’ve read, everything I see online, tells me I’m supposed to obey immediately and without protest, like a good slave….”

“Ahh, now we’re getting somewhere. That’s the problem right there. You are not a slave, Evie. So everything you’re reading is wrong for you.”

“But—”

“You are a Babygirl. Specifically, Mr. Altman’s Babygirl. You should be doing what’s best for him, to make him happy. Not this nonsense you’re following from what you’re reading online.”

“But I—”

“So from here on out, I’m going to make you throw out all these misguided notions in your pretty little head, so you can be the best Babygirl you can be for your Daddy. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” Evie replied with a sigh.

“And that doesn’t mean always keeping your mouth shut, and that doesn’t mean taking your punishments so stoically. I need….” He put his hand on his chin, staring at her. Evie shifted her feel nervously. Mr. Cox turned his head and looked across the room, as if contemplating his options.

“Undress,” he said, his voice brokering no discussion. “Now. We’ll get you on the table.”

The table he spoke of sat by the side of the wall on the other side of the room. It reminded Evie very much of examining room tables she saw inside doctors offices. But looking at it closer, Evie realized it was perhaps slightly longer, more narrow, and had thicker padding.

As Evie undressed and put her folded clothes on the bed, Mr. Cox released the brakes on the legs of the table and wheeled it into the middle of the room. When he was satisfied with its positioning, he reset the breaks so it would not move.

“Get on,” he ordered. Evie hopped onto the table and lay down on her back, her knees bent but her legs pressed together. She felt nervous, and curious what Mr. Cox would try to “teach” her, but not too afraid. She could take whatever he threw her way. She would be brave for her Daddy.

Mr. Cox went to the wardrobe, pulled out a few things, and returned to her side. In his hand he was holding some thick nylon straps. They had O rings on one end and Velcro strips on the other. He was also holding a bondage bar that had four cuffs already attached.

“First,” he said, and began to strap Evie down to the table. He took one long nylon strap, fitted it across her shoulders right above her breasts, and grabbed it from beneath the table on the other side. He slipped the end through the O ring, cinched it closed until Evie grunted from the sudden constriction, and pressed the long length of Velcro down, locking Evie in place.

Then, he positioned another strap across her waist, going through the same procedure he had with the first, and pulling that one tightly down, too. Evie’s torso was now strapped down to the table. She could not rise at all.

“Now…” Mr. Cox grabbed the bondage bar, took both of Evie’s hands, and fitted them through two of the four cuffs attached to the bar. “Put your feet up,” he ordered.

Evie understood what he wanted her to do: He wanted both her hands and feet in the air, locked into the bondage bar. So she rose her legs into the air, brought her feet to her hands, and lay still for Mr. Cox to do his handiwork.

Mr. Cox buckled her ankles into the other two cuffs of the bar, locking them in place. Evie lay restrained to the table, with her arms and legs locked to the bar above her. She felt like a trussed up pig about to be cooked on a spit.

“Is this really necessary?” She asked, looking up at the ceiling. “I won’t move if you tell me not to—”

Slap!

Mr. Cox had slapped something thin and stingy against her vulnerable rump.

“You’ve been working under the mistaken notion you’ll only get punished when you deserve it. That may be how your Daddy does things, Evie, but you’re in my world now, and in my world, punishments don’t always have to be deserved. I’m going to play with this soft little ass of yours for as long as I want. I’m going to warm it up good. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” Evie said through clenched teeth.

“Think you can take it?”

He had made it a challenge, damn the man. “Yes, Sir,” Evie said again, sure of herself.

“And what if I play with this tight cunt of yours too while I’m at it?” Mr. Cox slid his hand over Evie’s pubic mound and thrust a finger into her hot, but dry, pussy. “Think you can take that, too?”

Evie squeezed her eyes shut, but kept her voice cool. “Yes, Sir,” she said.

“We’ll see. No need to count the spanks. It’s not like I’ll be keeping track. I’ll stop when I feel like it.”

With that, he began to slap her ass again, using quick, measured strokes. “It’s a strap,” he said between hits, his voice light. “I thought this prim and proper ass of yours deserved a classic punishment piece.”

Evie could not reply. She was focusing all her energy on keeping still.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

Mr. Cox continued to pepper her ass with smacks, swinging the strap against her upthrust bottom. Every once in a while, he would switch hands. Evie thought he might be trying to even out the welts between cheeks. But it was obvious he wasn’t really keeping track, just like he had warned her.

He was having a merry time of it, too, spanking Evie’s exposed and accessible bottom. He was waiting to see how she would react.

Evie bit her lip. She squeezed her eyes shut. She made fists with her small hands, high in the air and locked into the bondage bar. But she did not cry out.

She would not. If this man thought he could break her so easily, make her lose her composure and struggle against his “punishment,” he was wrong. She would lay still and not give him the satisfaction of watching her writhe. She would take it if it killed her. And really, how long could he go on? He would have to give up and admit defeat eventually, wouldn’t he?

“My arm’s getting tired,” Mr. Cox said, as if reading her thoughts. “Time to give it a break.” Evie took a long, drawn-out breath, then sucked it in when she felt something warm and wet touch her pussy.

“God, you taste good, Evie,” she heard her host say. He was standing between her legs. Evie had to close her eyes to keep herself from lifting her head and looking. “Your Daddy must love to eat out this pussy. Does he, Evie? Does he love to eat this delicious pussy of yours?”

“Yes, Sir,” she managed to say.

“I thought so,” he murmured, touching his tongue to her soft vulva. Evie could feel his hot breath against her moistening skin.

Mr. Cox spread Evie’s pussy lips wide, drinking in the sight of her pink folds. Finally, Evie opened her eyes and looked down, and was struck by the sight of Mr. Cox standing between her lifted legs, admiring her most private parts. It was a highly erotic position, and Evie tightened her pelvic muscles in response.

“Oh, yes, do that,” Mr. Cox said, watching her skin, and asshole, constrict. He politely wet two of his fingers in his mouth, then pushed them deep inside Evie’s now sopping wet cunt. “God, you’re tight,” he said. “You’re squeezing my fingers.” He wiggled them, and watched as Evie’s eyes flared. “Squeeze ‘em tight, there’s good girl. Harder.” Evie closed her eyes and squeezed her muscles as tight as she could. “Good girl, Evie. Hold ‘em now…” he began to thrust his fingers in and out of her hot cunt, creaming with her inner juices. Evie held back a whimper.

“Squeeze my fingers, Evie,” he said, focusing her. “Squeeze ‘em tight, don’t let them go…harder….”

As Evie worked hard to tighten her pelvic muscles as much as she could, feeling her aching arousal surging to new heights, Mr. Cox brought his thumb up to Evie’s swollen clit, and pressed it with the pad of his finger. He began to circle it. The effect on Evie was electric. Her whole body spasmed with exquisite shocks of bliss.

Mr. Cox grinned. “You like that, don’t you Babygirl. You like me finger-fucking your cunt and playing with your clit.”

Evie would not reply. She refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing her admit how much she liked what he was doing to her. But she whipped her head from side to side as her breathing came in short gasps. She could not quell her body’s most natural reactions.

“Your clit’s so swollen, Evie. I wonder, if I used my tongue on it now, would you come? I bet you would.”

Evie held her breath, waiting for her host to press his tongue against her clit, waiting to come. But Mr. Cox removed his thumb, pulled his fingers out of her dripping, tight pussy, and stepped away from her.

“Break time’s over,” he announced. “All the color has faded from your ass. I want it nice and red. The spanking I gave you before? That was just a warm up.”

He picked up the strap and began to spank Evie’s bottom again, only this time putting more force behind the blows. For Evie, after being so close to coming, the shock of the strap biting into her skin was even harder to take. But she gritted her teeth and willed herself to remain still.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

Mr. Cox was no longer confining himself to Evie’s buttocks. Instead, he was moving up her thighs, circling the strap around her legs, and sometimes, doing his best to aim the strike between them. Evie began to let out short yelps with each smack when she felt the strap striking into the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs.

“Starting to feel it a bit too much, Evie? Want it to stop?” He continued his relentless spanking, and Evie bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. “I could do this all afternoon, Evie. I’m having fun. Are you?”

Slap! Slap! Slap!

Evie could feel the tears forming under her eyelids. But before the first ones could drip from the corners of her eyes, he stopped.

“Your pussy’s gaping. It looks like it’s pouting, wanting some attention,” Mr. Cox said, his voice jovial. He spread her pussy lips open once more and slipped two fingers inside her drenched cunt with a jerk of his wrist. They made juicy sucking noises inside her sopping pussy. He thrust his fingers straight in a few times, then hooked them so they would rub against her g-spot.

Evie swallowed back a moan. Mr. Cox added another finger into her tight pussy.

“That’s it, Evie, that’s it,” he said as Evie’s whole body tensed, her head coming off the table. “Tell me how me how much you like that. Tell me how much you want it. C’mon, Babygirl, tell me…”

“No!” The word ripped out of her throat before she could stop herself. Mr. Cox stared at her in surprise, then stopped his moving fingers, leaving them still inside her cunt.

“No? No is not the word I’m looking for,” he said. “No was not the word I wanted you to learn first. But if you want to start with that one, then by all means, let’s start with that.”

Removing his hand from her well-oiled cunt, he picked up the strap again, and began to slap her with it from thigh to thigh. He moved further away from her this time, letting his arm swing higher with each blow, and reducing the time between spanks.

It stung like a son of a bitch, and Evie didn’t know how much more she could take. Her arms and legs trembled above her. She tried to twist her body away from the sting of the strap, but it was useless.

Her host’s voice above the stinging sounds of the strap was a vicious hiss. “Tell me, Evie, do you like this?” When she didn’t answer, he spanked her faster. Evie began to cry out, her grip of control finally beginning to loosen. “Do you like the way I’m spanking your ass? Does it feel good?”

Slap! Slap! Slap!

“Do you like it, Evie? Do you? Do you?”

Slap Slap Slap—

“No,” Evie yelled, tears dripping from her eyes.

“Tell me again. Do you like it?” Slap!

“No!” Slap!

“Do you want me to keep going?” Slap!

“No! No!” Slap!

“Tell me again.” Slap!

“No!” Slap!

“Again!” Slap!

“NO! Please, stop!” She screamed. Mr. Cox stopped.

“That is how you say no, Evie,” he said. “And this is how you want to say yes.” He pressed four of his fingers together on one hand, twisted them around and inside the opening of her sticky cunt to get them good and wet, and then slowly began to push them into her pussy.

His fingers were blunt, but wide, and quickly felt huge inside her. Evie arched her back, trying to pull away. Mr. Cox put a restraining hand on her hip and kept pushing.

“Please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please, I, oh!” Mr. Cox’s four fingers had disappeared inside Evie’s stretched cunt. His hand had slipped under her pelvic bone, and now rested there, a tight ball of delicious fullness.

Evie had never felt so stuffed in her life. It would not have even occurred to her that a man’s entire hand could fit inside her pussy. For a moment, she panicked.

“Oh, oh please.” She struggled inside her bonds, wriggling around the table, and tightening around Mr. Cox’s hand.

“Easy, easy,” he said, rubbing her leg with his other hand to soothe her. Evie stopped her writhing and took long, labored breaths. “That’s it,” he said. “Don’t fight it. Let my fingers stretch you. It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“No,” she whispered. The exact opposite. It felt wonderful. His hand became a focal point of her growing need, unfurling across her entire body. She was squeezing his hand tightly with her cunt muscles without even realizing it, but it felt like he was the one gripping her, controlling her peaks of arousal from the inside.

And then he began to make a series of push-pull motions with his hand, small ones, and Evie’s back arched off the table.

“Yes!” She shrieked. “Oh God, yes, please.” Mr. Cox’s stuffed hand seemed to be pulling the orgasm right out of her.

He slowed it down.

“Do you like this, Evie?” He asked. “Does it feel good?”

“Oh yes, yes, please don’t stop, yes—”

“Would you like to come?”

“Yes, please, yes.”

Mr. Cox moved his hand faster, pulling against her pelvic bone with each thrust, and Evie’s eyes rolled back in ecstasy.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She came in wild abandon, bobbing her head up and down and lifting up her hips as high as she could. Mr. Cox didn’t stop his hand thrusts until she had crossed the precipice of her orgasm and was well on the other side. He kept his hand still as tiny aftershocks rattled her body, making her muscles spasm all over her racked form.

“Relax your muscles,” he ordered as her breath slowed. Slowly, he pulled his glistening, sticky hand out. It made wet oozing sounds as it went.

Once it was out, he held it up to her. It was coated with her juices. Mr. Cox wiped it off on a towel he got from the wardrobe.

As Evie tried to relax her shattered nerves, Mr. Cox released her from her bondage.

“I hope you’ve learned, Evie, you gain nothing from holding back your body’s natural reactions from me,” he said as he worked to free her from the table. Her arms and legs came down slowly from the air, trembling and weak. “Your Daddy works the same way. Show your pleasure, and you get a reward. Hide your pain, and you only get more punishment. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir,” she grumbled, pushing herself up into a sitting position, but keeping her head down. She didn’t want to look him in the eyes.

Mr. Cox noticed her stubborn posture, but decided not to remark on it. A little stubbornness can be a good thing, he thought, if she can put it to good use.

“Get dressed,” he said. “Go relax. I’ll let you have the rest of the evening for yourself, to do whatever you want. But tomorrow morning, Evie, I expect you to rejoin the human population and eat breakfast in the dining room. Understand?”

Evie picked up her head and stared mutinously at her host.

“Yes, Sir,” she said, her voice clipped.

Mr. Cox nodded, satisfied. “Good,” he said. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.”

“When exactly tomorrow, Sir?”

“Why, when I say so, Evie. When I say so.”

~ * * * ~

Evie spent the rest of the night in her hotel room. She fell asleep late, hugging a teddy bear to her chest. It smelled like Daddy.

The next morning, she woke to the sound of the telephone ringing. It was the front desk, waking her on her host’s orders, and reminding her she was due downstairs. Evie managed a polite thank-you through clenched teeth.

Mr. Cox was a tyrant, she decided. Trying to control her every minute, trying to get her to bend to his will. Well, he would learn that the only man’s will she would bend to was her Daddy’s.

Daddy had told her to be good, and being good meant following Mr. Cox’s orders. So she would follow them. But only as far as she had to. Evie was expected downstairs in the dining room, so she would head downstairs to the dining room.

But she did not dress nicely for the occasion. She did not even put on a casual t-shirt and jeans. And she certainly didn’t adorn the naughty prepschool outfit she had packed.

No, Evie remained in her nightgown, and it was the longest, thickest, most worn-out and ugliest nightgown she owned. Made out of wool, it fell to her ankles and swathed her up to the neck.

Evie had owned it since she had grown to her full height, years ago, and had held onto it only because it was so warm and comfortable. But it was also raggedy, stained, and ripped.

She never wore it when her Daddy summoned her to his bedroom. She wore it only within the confines of her own room, and only when she was sure Daddy would not be making a surprise visit.

As she looked down at the ugly (and somewhat smelly) nightgown, she took on an air of stubborn satisfaction. If Mr. Cox wants me to act like a Babygirl, she thought, I will. And Babygirls don’t dress up in fancy clothes for breakfast.

She got a lot of stares in the dining room. But no one said anything about it, not even the waiter who showed her to her table. Evie studied the wine list and looked around at the other guests until he returned.

He came back holding a tray of food and a cup of juice. Evie frowned.

“I think you’ve made a mistake,” she said. “I haven’t even ordered yet.”

The waiter looked at her strangely. “You don’t want this? You would like to look at the menu instead?”

Evie peeked at the plate. It was filled with fruit, toast, and a bowl of oatmeal. Evie made a face of disgust. She hated oatmeal. “Yes. I don’t want that. Take it back.”

The waiter shrugged. “Very well, miss,” he said. “I will take it back to the kitchen and bring you a menu.” He disappeared for only a moment, and returned with a menu in hand.

Evie ended up ordering the loaded omelet, a stack of butter pancakes, and a basket of sliced bread rolls with butter.

When the food arrived, she didn’t bother putting her napkin on her lap, and she didn’t pick up the fork and knife, either. Evie ate with her hands.

The surrounding diners stared at her in wonder, no doubt because of her barbaric manners, but Evie didn’t care. She had no one there to impress. In any case, Babygirls weren’t expected to have good manners, were they? And Mr. Cox expected her to be a good Babygirl.

When she was done, she licked her fingers clean, and wiped her hands on her nightgown.

But by the time she got back to her room, she began to question the wisdom of her heavy meal. She was feeling sick to her stomach, and wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball on the bed. She was not used to eating such massive amounts of food for breakfast.

As she lay in a fetal position, moaning softly, she heard a knock on her door. It was the liaison, looking stuffy and bored as usual.

“Mr. Cox requires your presence immediately,” he said. “Please come with me.”

“What, right now? Can I change first?” The idea of appearing in front of her host wearing her frayed and distasteful nightgown made goosebumps rise along her arms in fear. She had known he would get a report of her conduct, but it hadn’t occurred to her he might actually see her in the ugly thing.

“No,” her liaison said. “You are to accompany me immediately.”

“It will only take a minute—”

“If you prefer, I can tell Mr. Cox you refused to come.”

“No! No. I will follow you down now.”

She shut the door behind her and followed the liaison, hugging her arms to her chest and feeling her anxiety rise. Not only was she embarrassed by the prospect of appearing to her host dressed as she was, her stomach was really beginning to bother her. All that heavy food, mixed with the tight knot of fear growing in her belly, was not sitting well.

Maybe once she told Mr. Cox she wasn’t feeling well, he would send her back to her room. She could hope.

Her liaison escorted her to a new activity room this time, one Evie had never seen before. This made her feel a bit more hopeful. Maybe Mr. Cox was busy with someone else, and only wanted to tell her something quickly? Maybe he wasn’t planning on giving her one of his “lessons” now after all?

But when she entered the room, Mr. Cox wasn’t looking all that hurried, and he didn’t look very sympathetic to her bent, moaning form. He took one look at her, and his face became a mask of fury.

“What the hell are you walking around wearing that for?” He barked, taking a step toward her. He stopped himself from closing the distance, as if afraid to get too close. “I could not believe it when they told me you had gone to the dining room looking like—like this,” he waved his hand at her general direction. “And then you refused the food I had ordered for you—”

“You ordered that food for me?” She exclaimed, surprised. “I didn’t know, they didn’t tell me—”

“And ate like a pig,” Mr. Cox continued, “embarrassing yourself in front of the entire hotel. What were you thinking?”

“You told me to behave like a Babygirl,” she said, her voice more nervous than smug. She wasn’t feeling at all sure of herself anymore. In fact, she was feeling contrite, and more than a little embarrassed. “I ate like a Babygirl. I dressed like a Babygirl.”

“No, you are dressed like a street rat, and you ate like a derelict,” Mr. Cox said. “Does Mr. Altman know you even own this thing?”

He strode toward her until he was peering down at her face, then cringed, getting a whiff of her nightgown. “Oh my god, it even smells awful,” he said. “Take it off. Now. I won’t have you wearing it in my presence.”

Evie hugged her stomach. “Please, Sir, I can’t really take it off.”

“Why not?” He hissed.

“I’m not feeling very well, Sir. I think I should just go back up to my room and lie down,” she finished, trying to look as ill and pathetic as possible, which wasn’t difficult. Her stomach was starting to make rumbling noises that were audible to both of them.

“Not feeling well, eh? Your stomach is bothering you?”

Evie nodded.

“Well, we can take care of that right here,” he said, giving her a twisted, ominous grin. Evie’s skin prickled with dread. “Take that gown off now, before I rip it off you,” he sneered.

Evie pulled it over her head in one fluid movement, feeling the cool air of the room hit her body, making her shiver. Before she even had a chance to fling the nightgown to the bed, her host was grabbing her by the arm and pulling her roughly toward a second set of doors that had been hidden in the back of the room by the angle of the deep wardrobe. Mr. Cox now opened the double doors, and dragged Evie inside.

It was a bathroom: a very large, opulent, and stately bathroom. An extra-wide sunken tub took up one corner of the spacious room, while the shower, big enough for four people, stood next to it, lined with multiple water jets. Double sinks took up the other wall, separated by a decadent marble counter top.

A bench, wide and well padded, sat in the middle of the tiled floor, yet the room was so large, there was ample space to walk around it. Beyond the threshold where Evie stood, she could look across the room, down a tiny square hall, and see two more doors, each facing each other. She presumed at least one of them hid a private, secluded toilet. What the other one was, she couldn’t fathom a guess.

The room reminded her of the Roman baths she had seen pictures of in books. Well lit, elegant and luxurious, it was obviously built not just for functionality, but for fun.

Evie couldn’t appreciate the beauty of the bathroom just then. Her stomach was aching, stretched so tight she thought if she moved the wrong way she might throw up. All she wanted to do was lie down and rest.

The considerate thing for her host to do would have been to let her go back to her room and rest until she felt better. But of course, her host was not a considerate man. He obviously didn’t care about her temporary aching fullness.

Mr. Cox pulled her over to the bench, almost as big as a twin size bed, and shoved her down onto it. Evie stumbled, fell with a moan, and curled her legs up to her stomach.

“Lay down on your side,” he said. “Bend your knees to your chest.”

Relieved that he was finally taking her discomfort into account and trying to help her alleviate it, Evie did as instructed. She felt a tiny bit better. The tension in her stomach muscles eased somewhat, and she took a few deep breaths.

While Evie remained down on the bench, her eyes closed, she could hear her host moving around the large room. At first, she didn’t bother looking what he was doing. All her focus was on getting through another stomach spasm. But when she heard him open one of the narrow side doors at the end of the small hallway, she lifted her lids and picked up her head.

Mr. Cox was holding cuffs and straps.

“What are you—”

Before she could even finish the question, Mr. Cox had grabbed Evie’s limp and sweaty hands and had cuffed them in front of her. Using a heavy metal carabiner, he pulled them to one side and locked them into an eye bolt fastened to the side of the bench. With both hands cuffed to the same bolt, Evie was now trapped on her side.

“Hey—”

Without pausing, Mr. Cox took a long nylon strap, pushed it underneath Evie’s hips (making her jack up her butt in the process), and brought it up to her waist. Evie arched when she felt the nylon riding up her back, but Mr. Cox pushed her back down.

He picked her legs up and flung them over her head, and before Evie had a chance to fight him, he looped the nylon strap behind her knees and cinched it closed, holding down the velcro strip. Evie’s knees were now bent up to her stomach, locked in place.

But Mr. Cox wasn’t done. He cuffed her ankles together, too, then picked up another carabiner and snapped them into another bolt on the same side of the bench as her hands.

Evie was stuck curled on her side, her ass bent at the hips, her most private parts exposed, and she couldn’t move.

“Why are you doing this?” She wailed.

But Mr. Cox was no longer standing next to her. He had gone back to what was obviously a supply closet to gather up more items. Evie had no idea what he could be getting now, or what would be coming next. Angled as she was, she couldn’t look down the length of the room to see.

Evie’s eyes widened in fear when she heard something being wheeled across the tile floor. Mr. Cox parked whatever it was directly behind her curled body.

Then Evie heard the water faucet turn on behind her.

“What are you doing?” Her voice came out high and loud over the sound of the rushing water.

“You, my dear, are in need of some Babygirl discipline,” Mr. Cox replied. “I ordered a meal that I knew you could stomach, food that would be good for you. All that heavy food you ate instead is making you sick. What you need is to be cleaned out.”

“What?”

“Come now, you must realize I can’t have you getting ill while you’re under my care. Your Daddy would be furious with me, and rightly so. Hasn’t he ever had to administer medicine to you to help make you feel better? Castor oil, perhaps? Maybe even Ipecac?”

“No, never,” Evie whimpered. She could hear the hard echo of the water hitting metal: Mr. Cox was filling a bucket with water. Her heart sped up in fear.

“I’ll have to talk to him about that,” Mr. Cox said. The water turned off. For a few moments, Evie could hear him rustling about behind her, getting things ready. Then she felt a hand on the smooth hill of her ass.

“You’re going to get an enema, Evie,” Mr. Cox said almost sadly. “Hopefully this will teach you for next time what happens when you disobey my orders.”

“No, please!” She cried. She began to wrestle against her restrains, shaking the bench.

“Don’t fight it,” her host replied. “It won’t do any good.”

“You can’t do this to me, you can’t—”

“Yes, I can.”

“My Daddy would never—”

“Your Daddy put you in my care. Listen, Evie: there’s more than one way to take an enema. I filled the bucket with some nice warm water, so it won’t hurt so much. It might even feel like a gentle massage. If you’re good, and relax, I’ll let the water go in slowly. But if you fight me, Evie, I’ll fill the bucket with cold water, and make it go in faster. And believe me, that’s not how you want to get your first enema.”

Evie began to cry. “Please, please don’t do this to me.”

“It’s going to happen, whether you like it or not. Now are you going to be good, and get this over with like a brave Babygirl? Or do I have to fill the bucket with cold water?”

Evie stilled her body, trying to get her crying under control. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Good. Now relax your asshole. I’m going to put in the nozzle.”

Evie felt something thin and slippery poke against the opening of her ass. Reflexively, she tightened up.

“Relax, Evie,” Mr. Cox said again. “Take a deep breath.”

Evie took a deep breath, and felt the nozzle shove up her hole. She yelped.

“The nozzle has a balloon at the other end that I have to inflate, so you can’t push it out of your ass,” he said. “I’m going to inflate it now. You’ll feel some pressure inside.” As he spoke, Evie could feel something growing bigger just on the other side of her sphincter. Very quickly, it felt huge inside her rectum. She tried to push it out, and found she could not. It was too big.

She began to cry again, her sobs racking her whole body.

“There we go,” Mr. Cox said. “Now all we have to do is unclamp the tube, and—”

Evie closed her eyes. A rush of warmth started to flood her rectum and continued into her lower belly. She moaned loudly.

“Just be still, Evie,” Mr. Cox said. “I set the water to go very, very slowly. It shouldn’t hurt you too much.” He came around to her other side and sat on the edge of the bench so she could see him.

“I hate you!” Evie sobbed.

“I get that,” Mr. Cox replied. “But your Daddy left me responsible for you, and I’m not going to let you go wild inside this hotel and do whatever you want. You’ll be returned to him in the same condition you were in when he left here. Hopefully better.”

The water continued to fill Evie’s body. She squeezed her eyes shut against the liquid warmth. It didn’t hurt, but she had no control over it, and hated how helpless she felt. She was absolutely defenseless against her host’s whims and her body’s reactions.

Mr. Cox gazed at the bucket. “While we wait for all the water to empty from the bucket, tell me how you met your Daddy.”

Evie’s eyes opened in shock. For a split second, she forgot about the cuffs binding her wrists and ankles and the water filling her insides.

“What, you want me to tell you the story of how Daddy and I met now?”

“Why not? We have time. Unless you want me to make the water go in faster?”

“No!” The pressure in her belly was growing, but slowly. Evie didn’t think she could take it going any faster. She was at the mercy of her host, who at that moment, she loathed.

“We met at a restaurant,” she gritted out. “He was there alone. I was there with someone else. My date made some kind of rude comment, I don’t remember anymore exactly what it was. I threw my glass of water in his face.”

“Really?” Mr. Cox chuckled. “Sounds like you really were a spitfire back then.”

“Yes,” Evie’s voice was clipped. “Daddy ran after me as I was walking out of the restaurant, and gave me his number. He told me to call him sometime so he could take me out on a date. I did. That’s it.” She closed her mouth and took a deep breath. The pressure inside her intestines was growing to new heights, and the nozzle sitting inside of her rectum was starting to strain.

“I understand now what Mr. Altman first saw in you,” Mr. Cox said. “An impetuous little brat, looking for someone to take her in hand. So why do you only act the brat when your Daddy’s not around to see it, I wonder?”

Evie wasn’t really paying attention anymore. She was breathing hard, feeling the bloating in her stomach become an urgent call to action. She began to groan.

“The water’s just about done, Evie,” Mr. Cox said, watching her frantic expressions flit across her face as the water filled her innards. “I’m going to uncuff you now, then deflate and remove the nozzle. The toilet’s right down there, on the left. Ready?”

He uncuffed her ankles first, then her wrists. Evie remained still as he deflated the balloon of the nozzle, then slowly eased it out of her bulging rectum. Evie whimpered. It was all she could do not to embarrass herself right there on the bench.

Once the nozzle was out, she quickly got up, and, holding one hand over her stomach and the other against her straining bottom, ran as fast as she could down the hall. She didn’t care anymore about dignity or what her host thought of her. All she wanted to do was make it to the toilet.

Thankfully, Mr. Cox left her alone, and granted her some blessed privacy. Evie still continued to curse her host under her breath.

~ * * * ~

Evie walked back into the activity room naked and shaking. She had been in the bathroom for what felt like a long time, releasing the enema from her body. Now she felt weak and spent.

She looked around the room for her clothes, thinking she would be allowed to dress and return to her room. Not so. Her ordeal was still far from over.

Mr. Cox had put a large bowl on the floor. It was stainless steel, and looked exactly like a dog bowl. It was filled with thick white liquid.

“Drink,” he ordered. “You need to get your electrolytes back.”

Evie knelt down on the floor and reached for the bowl, about to lift it to her lips. But before she could pick it up, Mr. Cox stopped her.

“No! You don’t get to pick it up. Stay down, on your knees.” He sneered at Evie’s horrified look. “You want to act like an animal, you’ll get treated like an animal.” Evie stared at him in disbelief. “Drink!”

Evie lowered herself on all fours and dipped her face into the bowl, drinking up greedily. But she cried bitterly as she drank. Her tears dripped into the bowl, mixing with the sweet liquid.

“This is what the difference is between a Babygirl and a slave, Evie,” Mr. Cox growled, watching her cry and drink at the same time. “A Babygirl gets to eat at the table with the grownups when she’s good. A Babygirl gets rewarded when she behaves. A slave is property, to be treated like an animal at her owner’s whim. I don’t think you want to be someone’s slave, Evie.”

“No, Sir,” Evie sobbed, sitting up on her heels when she had emptied the bowl.

“Well, that’s good, because Mr. Altman has no need for a slave.” He walked to the bed and swung open a low, narrow door beneath it. “Now crawl over here and get in.”

What Mr. Cox pointed Evie to was a cage, set under the bed. It was padded, and already had inside a pillow and blanket, but it was still a cage.

Evie had no strength left to resist. Exhausted, she crawled into the cage, pulled the blanket up over her body, and closed her eyes as she heard the metal door close.

~ * * * ~

“Wake up, Evie.” The deep masculine voice roused her from her sleep, making her turn the other way in protest. “Wake up, Babygirl,” it said again. This time, a hand gripped her arm and shook it. Evie opened her eyes and looked around.

She was still in the cage. Mr. Cox was on his knees on the floor, shaking her awake through the opened door.

Evie crawled out of the cage and stood up, looking at her host with eyes full of contempt. She had no idea what he had in store for her now, but whatever it was, she planned to fight him tooth and nail. The nap, and the nourishment she had lapped up from the bowl like a dog, had renewed her strength, and Evie felt much better—and much wiser. He would not find it so easy to render her helpless this time!

Mr. Cox saw the resistance in her eyes, and smiled. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” he said.

“Yes, Sir,”she spat, crossing her arms in front of her.

“Good,” he said. “Come.” He gripped her by the arm and began to pull her away.

“Where are we going?” Evie yanked her arm away from him, planting her feet in place. She would not follow him blindly to her own demise twice.

“You need a bath,” he said. “You stink.” When Evie didn’t move, her face a mask of resistance, he grinned even wider. “Ah, a glimmer of contention. It’s good to see, but I don’t think you want to fight me on this right now, Evie. Don’t you want a bath? The hotel keeps a good stock of bath oils. You can choose one, if you want. And you should brush your teeth.”

At the prospect of cleaning herself up and relaxing in a nice hot bath, Evie relented, and let Mr. Cox pull her back to the bathroom. She only hesitated a moment when her eyes clapped on the cursed bench. But all the evidence of her previous experience on it, including the enema supplies, bucket, and tubing, had already been put away. It was as if it had never happened.

Mr. Cox turned on the tub jets, then handed Evie a brand new toothbrush and some toothpaste. As Evie brushed her teeth, the tub began to fill with water. By the time she was done, the tub was already heaping with soapy bubbles, and looked heavenly.

Mr. Cox offered Evie a steadying hand as she stepped inside the tub. She lay down in it and relaxed, closing her eyes as the water rose around her body, making her feel weightless.

A second later, she was opening her eyes in alarm as Mr. Cox entered the tub himself. He had undressed while she had been relaxing in the water, lulled by the soothing warmth.

Evie barely had time to look at his muscular thighs and thick cock before they were disappearing into the opaque water. He sat across from her in the large tub, stretched out his arms on either side, and sighed in contentment.

“What are you doing?” Evie shrieked. She thought she would be able to bathe in peace, and for once, not have to worry about what her dratted host was up to. Now she realized she would have to keep her guard up, even while taking a bath.

“How else am I supposed to wash you?” He laughed. He grabbed a washcloth off a shelf above the tub and began to rub it with some soap.

“I can wash myself, thank you.”

“I know.”

“Let me rephrase that. I prefer to wash myself.”

“Ah, more opposition. Very good. But you don’t really, you know—want to wash yourself, I mean. You’d much rather have me wash you.” He grabbed her foot from underneath the water and raised it, bringing the washcloth around her ankle and rubbing it around her foot. Evie gasped. Mr. Cox smiled.

“Ticklish?”

He continued to rub the washcloth around her foot, getting between the toes, then slid it up her calf, circling her leg. Evie watched him with narrowed eyes, but didn’t pull her leg away. What he was doing felt good, like a gentle massage.

Mr. Cox moved up her leg, making deep, kneading circles into her flesh with the washcloth, filling Evie with a sense of warm serenity. When he got to her upper thigh, he stopped, and picked up her other foot, repeating the same process on the other leg. Evie lay back in the tub and moaned in delight.

But this time, when he got to her upper thigh, he didn’t stop. He kept going up her leg, kneading deep into her inner thigh, almost all the way up to the crease of her pubic mound. Evie opened her eyes and looked at him through heavy lids, daring him to move higher.

Without saying a word, Mr. Cox moved himself up the tub until he was seated on his knees next to her, then began to slide the slightly coarse washcloth deep into the folds of her pussy. Evie jacked upright.

“Easy, easy,” Mr. Cox soothed her. “I’m not going to do anything that hurts you. I promise.”

Keeping her eyes focused on her host, Evie slowly sunk back down into the water. She would give him a chance to keep his word, and make up for all his former horrible treatment of her. His skillful massage was too damn good not to give him this chance.

True to his word, Mr. Cox did not become boorish in the task he had taken upon himself. He continued to rub the washcloth in and around Evie’s cunt, using slow, gentle strokes, until Evie closed her eyes and relaxed her body all the way into the water, with only her face breaking the surface. It felt marvelous, the way he was washing her inside and out. Evie felt pampered, like a Roman empress being coddled by her slaves, and she never wanted it to end.

But more than that, the washcloth rubbing her clit was making her horny. Every time it glided over her tingling nub and flushing folds, Evie twitched with a jolt of arousal. She couldn’t have done a better job of priming her pussy to make her come herself.

Soon, she was moving her hips against the washcloth in her host’s strong hand, thrusting and swaying in time to his expert ministrations. She bucked her pelvis, trying to control the pressure hitting her throbbing clit. Mr. Cox let her move as she wanted, pressing in with his expert fingers when she bucked, and holding still as she rubbed her own pussy against the washcloth.

After only a few minutes, Evie was clasping his wide hand inside her two smaller ones, holding it still as she rode it to orgasm. She rocked her body as she came, sloshing the water around them both, moaning loudly.

As she rode the wave back down, she relaxed once more into the water, breathing hard and staring at Mr. Cox with half-hooded eyes.

“That was beautiful, Evie,” Mr. Cox said. “You really let yourself go with that one. I love watching you come.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Now turn around. I’m not done washing you.”

With languid movements, Evie did as told, turning stomach down into the water. She had to arch her back a bit to keep her face above the water. Her hands reached out in front of her to hold onto the handles on each edge of the tub.

But this was still not the pose Mr. Cox wanted. He put his hands under her hips and raised her until she was crouched on all fours, her ass and cunt high in the air. With most of her body now above the water, Evie felt the temperature difference immediately. Goosebumps rose on her skin. But her tits hung down into the water, and her nipples grew plump and hard.

Mr. Cox began to rub her pussy again from behind, but this time without the washcloth. He fondled and caressed her wet warm folds, dipping into her pussy and making Evie gasp. He poked a finger inside, then another. Evie could hear her wet juices making sucking sounds around his fingers as they wiggled and jabbed.

Mr. Cox took his time playing with her, teasing her with his fingers, until Evie was thrusting back against his probing digits, trying to fuck herself off once more. She was ready to come again, and had no inhibitions about using her body to express that wish to her host.

But that wasn’t good enough for Mr. Cox.

“What would you like, Evie?” He asked from behind her.

“I would like to come, Sir,” she asked in a light, girly voice. “Please.”

“Such an honest request. How would you like me to help?”

She turned her face to look at him and wiggled her hips provocatively. “Please play with my clit, Sir.”

“That’s one way I could do it. How else?”

Evie stopped moving in the water: she realized Mr. Cox had turned this into another one of his “lessons.” She decided to play along. It was only some questions, after all.

“You could put your fingers back in my pussy, Sir. That would make me come.”

“Excellent. How else?”

She frowned, thinking hard. Then she smiled.

“You could put your cock in my pussy and fuck me, Sir.”

“Yes, and under the circumstances, I think that’s exactly what I want to do. But first I want you to ask for it. Go on, Evie. Ask for my cock.”

Evie rolled her eyes. “Please, Sir, can I have your cock in my pussy?”

“Not like that, Evie. Ask like you mean it.”

Getting frustrated now, Evie made a sound of protest and tried to grind her crotch against her host’s erect prick. Mr. Cox slapped her ass and made her yelp.

“If you want to come, you’d better start behaving, Babygirl. Now ask again.”

“Please, Sir, will you put your cock in my pussy?”

“Again.”

“Sir, will you please put your cock in my pussy?”

“Still not buying it, Evie.”

“Sir! Please stick me with your cock, please, I need your cock in my pussy, I need to come, please Sir.”

Mr. Cox rammed his prick deep inside her wet cavern, making Evie squeal.

His strokes were quick and deep, and Evie had to brace herself against the side of the tub so she wouldn’t be pushed face-first into it.

At first, Evie enjoyed the savage fucking quietly, only letting tiny sighs escape her lips. But remembering her lessons, she began to vocalize her passion, letting her host know of her growing arousal.

“Oh yes, yes, Sir, that feels wonderful, please don’t stop.”

Mr. Cox’s thrusts came harder. Evie could feel his prick inside her hit the edge of her womb. It tickled in the most delightful way, and she gasped.

“Oh god, please don’t stop, Sir, please don’t stop! Oh god! Ohhh.”

She cried out as she came again, letting her voice rise and fall with the power of her orgasm. Mr. Cox kept pumping as she came, letting her get the full feel of his hard rod.

Evie was a bit surprised when she came down from her orgasm and realized her host was nowhere near coming yet. But she was content to remain still, and let him finish at his own pace.

Then she realized remaining still would not be good enough. At last, Evie understood what her host was waiting for: he wanted her to help spur him on.

“Oh yes, Sir, ram me with that big prick, it feels so good and my pussy’s so tight now.” She rocked her body against his probing cock, cramming herself with his rock-hard prick.

But she stopped when she heard splashing in the water. Mr. Cox had removed his hands from her hips to lather them in the soapy water. When Evie felt them return to her body, they were peeling open the crack of her ass.

“No!” She jerked her body forward. After the all-too recent violation of her ass, she was panicked by the mere thought of anything touching her there.

But Mr. Cox circled an arm under her hips, keeping her still. With his other, he teased a finger up and down her crease, tickling her asshole.

“Don’t, please don’t,” she cried.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t touch me there, please.”

“Why not? Am I hurting you?”

“No, but I don’t want you to. Please.”

“Does your Daddy always give in to your demands?” He began to circle the pad of his finger around her clenching asshole, targeting in.

“No, but, please, please don’t—”

“That’s it, Evie. Show me how much you don’t want it.” He pressed in with his finger, sliding the thick digit up her squeezing sphincter. Then he started thrusting in with his cock again.

Evie exploded with anger and fear. She tried to push her way out of the tub, but Mr. Cox held her under her hips and pulled her back. Evie could feel his finger gain another inch inside her asshole as she struggled.

Screaming loudly, she bucked and fought, trying to dislodge him enough to escape. When that didn’t work, she tried to turn around, ready to scratch his eyes out. Mr. Cox only pushed her down into the water, making her splutter and choke. As Evie worked to get her breath back, Mr. Cox worked his finger into her back passage even further. His cock rammed into her pussy, taking up its rhythmic pumping.

“Why are you doing this?” Evie cried. Her tears dripped into the sloshing water.

“Doing what?” The finger inside her jiggled and twisted. Evie yelped.

“Why are you treating me like this? You promised you wouldn’t hurt me!”

“And I’m not. I know this isn’t hurting you, Evie. You just don’t want me to be doing it. Am I right?”

Her voice cracked. “Yes!”

“That’s too bad. I like this very much.” He pistoned his finger in and out of her asshole in time to his thrusting cock.

“Oh!” Evie struggled again to escape her sadistic host, and found it just as futile as she had before. She began to sob face down into the tub.

“Please stop, please.” Her voice became unintelligible through her sobs.

“No, I don’t think I will. Reach a hand up and start playing with your nipples.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Play with your nipples.”

“No!”

“Do it, or it’ll be my cock in your ass you’ll be feeling next.”

Hiccuping on her own tears, Evie reached up and began to lightly squeeze her nipples, twisting them in her fingers. The sensations distracted her a bit from what Mr. Cox was doing behind and inside her. She stopped crying.

“That’s it, Babygirl. Pull on them. Twist them. Work ‘em good.” He continued to glide his finger in and out of her rear gate, but used slow, shallow strokes, never wavering from his rhythm. It felt thick inside her asshole, and Evie’s ring of muscle clenched and spasmed around it. But soon, it became a welcome pressure, a stabbing thrill that complemented his pumping cock in a way Evie could never have imagined.

She began to pull at her nipples roughly in the water, gasping at the pangs of pleasure coursing her body. She forgot about being angry at her host, forgot about her outrage and desperation, and felt only her growing arousal.

“That’s it, that’s a good Babygirl. Now flick ‘em, Evie, flick those nipples hard.”

Grimacing with effort, Evie switched hands in the water and began to flick her nipples as instructed. Her tits wobbled and danced above the water. It hurt, but not really…just like his finger in her ass hurt, but not really. Evie began to rock back against his cock just as she had before, only this time she was rocking back against his finger fucking her asshole, too.

Her anger and shame forgotten, Evie began to plead once more, only her pleas were of an entirely different sort.

“Oh God, please Sir, I can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“It isn’t right.” Her voice was breathless with need.

“What’s not right?”

“That it feels so good, oh god, so good Sir.” She rocked against him, moaning and crying, and behind her, Mr. Cox dug in, making his own little sounds of ecstasy.

“You like it now? You like what I’m doing to you?”

“Yes Sir, oh yes.”

“Then fuck yourself off.” He stopped thrusting. “Go on, finish us both off. And let me know when you come!”

Evie rocked her body wildly against him now, gyrating her hips with wide circles and thrusts. She was mad to come. She didn’t care one whit anymore if her host did or not. But she remembered to show when she came and let her inhibitions go.

“Oh, Sir, wiggle that finger more, harder, yes, like that. Oh my god I’m going to come!”

She rocked her body back so hard, Mr. Cox had to steady himself against the wall. The feel of her round ass slapping his thighs as she cried out her pleasure was his undoing, and Mr. Cox came with a shudder, shooting his hot come deep inside Evie’s wet, gripping pussy.

Evie screamed with delight, raising her body and arching against him. In the last second, Mr. Cox grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, keeping her body from dropping back down. Evie continued to come, oblivious to the pain in her scalp and certainly unable to do anything about it.

Feeling only the bolts of pleasure jolting her body, she held her body stiff against his, and Mr. Cox held her head and watched her face contort with the force of her orgasm.

He only let her hair go as her face relaxed, her eyes rolling back and blinking a few times. Her head fell unsupported towards the water, and she almost sank into it before she caught herself.

Evie continued to breathe heavily, quivering on all fours, as Mr. Cox pulled his cock, and his finger, away from her shaking body.

“Time to get out now,” he said. He helped her out. Mr. Cox rubbed her skin dry with a thick soft towel, and circled it around her scrubbed and glowing body. Evie stood still and let him dry her, too tired and sated to care if he might still be up to some devious new plan.

But Mr. Cox wasn’t up to anything anymore. The plan now was simply to get her back to her room. He retrieved a short thin robe from the wardrobe and tied the belt around her waist in a loose bow.

“This will have to do until you get back upstairs,” he said. He went to the wall by the door and pressed the button to summon the liaison.

“I can’t walk around the hallways dressed like this,” Evie said, her voice slurred. “It’s too short, and I’m naked underneath.”

“This is much better than what you were wearing earlier, believe me,” Mr. Cox replied. When she made a face at him, he said, “it’s this or you sleep in the cage tonight. Which is it going to be?”

“I’ll go upstairs like this.”

“That’s what I thought,” Mr. Cox said. “Have a good sleep, Evie. I’ll see you later.”

“When will that be, Sir?”

“Haven’t you learned yet, Evie? That’s completely up to me.”

~ * * * ~

The next morning, Evie woke bright and early, but on her own. No phone call awoke her. She took a few moments to stare out at the sunlit topography beyond her window before rising from the bed. It was then she realized she was still wearing the thin robe in which Mr. Cox had dressed her.

It was eight o’clock in the morning. She had been returned to her room the evening before, had promptly fallen into bed, and had slept the whole night.

Evie stripped off the robe and began to prepare for the day. She felt ravenous, but that was to be expected. She had eaten only one meal the day before, not counting the nourishing drink Mr. Cox had fed her from the dog bowl, and had suffered through an enema besides.

Donning a red cotton t-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans, Evie made quick time of her hair and makeup. When the elevator took too long to arrive to her floor, she took the stairs down instead, and waited impatiently in the dining room for the waiter to seat her.

But she made sure to tell the waiter her room number, and ask this time if any food had been ordered for her beforehand. Sure enough, the waiter returned not with a menu, but with a tray of food.

Thankfully, the tray was full of dishes she liked. There was even a slice of French toast. Evie ate gladly, and enjoyed a cup of hot coffee when she was done.

But as she rose from the table to return to her room, her waiter scurried over, holding out an envelope and looking nervous.

“This is from your liaison, miss,” he said. “You are to open it immediately.”

Evie cut the envelope open with her bread knife. The note read:

Your host orders you below. I am waiting for you by the elevators. Come at once.

Evie stuffed the note back in the envelope.

“Please throw this away for me?” She asked the waiter in a feeble voice. Her hand shook as she held out the envelope.

“Of course, miss. Have a good day, miss.”

Evie walked briskly out of the dining room, trying to control her breathing. Her liaison saw her walking toward him, and pressed the button to bring the elevator down.

“Did Mr. Cox say what the rush is?” She whispered as the elevator hummed.

“No, miss,” the liaison replied without looking at her. “He said only to bring you immediately.”

They stepped into the empty elevator, bracing as the doors closed.

Sliding his key-card into the elevator panel, the liaison pressed the button that would deliver them to the lower floor. He did not turn around after he did so, but continued to face the elevator doors, and once they opened, he walked out and down the hallway without bothering to make sure she followed.

Evie did follow, despite her anxiety, but racked her brains to figure out what she could have possibly done now to displease her host. Had she been supposed to wake earlier? Dress nicer? Perhaps she was not supposed to have left her room at all? But there had been no instructions!

One thing was for sure, it didn’t matter if she hadn’t understood Mr. Cox’s requirements for her behavior. If she had displeased him somehow, then she would be punished, whether she thought it was fair or not.

She held her chin up and crossed her arms in front of her. She would not go through another punishment like she had yesterday, not without a fight!

But when she entered the activity room and saw the expression on her host’s face, she uncrossed her arms. He did not look angry. He looked just as nervous as she was.

“I’ve just gotten word. Your Daddy’s meeting tomorrow has been cancelled. He’s not waiting until tomorrow morning to return to the hotel. He’s coming to get you tonight,” he said.

“But that’s wonderful,” Evie said, smiling. “I’ll see my Daddy tonight!”

“No, that’s not wonderful,” Mr. Cox scowled. “I thought I would have at least another twenty-four hours to work with you. How am I supposed to teach you everything you need to know by tonight?”

He rubbed his face with his hands, sighing deeply. Then he strode over to the bedside table, picked up a plush brown teddy bear that had been sitting on it, and threw it at her. It looked like a child’s stuffed animal.

“Get undressed,” Mr. Cox ordered. “I want you to take the bear, and use it to play with yourself.”

“What?”

“‘What? What?’ That’s all you ever say when I ask you to do something. Stop acting so shocked by my orders, Evie. Now is the time to get with the program!” He ran a hand through his hair. “I had planned on having you give your Daddy a show when he sees you for the first time after he returns. If we work hard, we can still make it happen.”

Looking dubious, Evie quickly slipped out of her jeans and t-shirt, then peeled off her panties and bra.

“What kind of show did you have in mind?” She asked.

“Get on the bed. No, don’t lie down. Stay on your knees. Spread your legs open. More. Yes, like that. Open your pussy lips with one hand. Spread them wide. Now,” he pointed to the teddy bear. “Take the bear and rub yourself with it.”

“Rub myself with it where?”

“Where do you think, Evie? Rub it on your pussy! Make yourself come.” He became impatient. “Come on, put on a show with it! Show me what you’ve got!”

Evie held back her look of uncertainty. Deciding to go along with his idea of a “show” (as long as it didn’t involve any kind of tubing being inserted into her ass again), Evie would go along.

Holding her pussy lips open with one hand, she began to slide the teddy bear across her pink folds with the other.

“There you go, yes,” Mr. Cox encouraged her. “Use the bear like a sexy play-toy. Come on, Evie, I know you can get creative if you put your mind to it.”

Closing her eyes, Evie began to will herself to relax, and feel the soft fur of the teddy bear tickling her folds and clit. After a couple minutes, she did begin to feel stimulated, and started to behave much more at ease using the bear as a plush, snugly sex toy.

She stuffed her fingers into her cunt, squashing and circling the teddy against her swelling clit. She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut as she worked, letting her growing need control her movements.

In no time, she had completely forgotten about her host watching her from the other side of the room. Her only focus was on the bear and her need to come.

When her climax rose within her, she came silently, only making weak humping movements with her hips as her orgasm crested and fell. Then she dropped the bear on the bed, sighing heavily.

“That’s it?” Mr. Cox yelled. “You already came? I could barely even tell!” He turned around to face the wall, his hands clenched into fists. “Goddamn it, Evie! I’d hoped, after all the progress you showed yesterday, you’d have learned at least something by now!”

“But I came. Isn’t that what you wanted? What did I do wrong?” Evie wailed. She felt very close to tears.

Mr. Cox sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “Evie, you still don’t understand.” When he saw her quivering chin, he shook his head. “I like you, Evie. I really do. I know you think I’ve behaved very badly toward you in the past couple days, and maybe I have, but it’s only because I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

He tilted his head, as if weighing his words. “I shouldn’t be telling you what I’m about to say, Evie. I could get into a lot of trouble by telling you these things. But I like your Daddy, and I like you, and I see how much you care about him. I really want the two of you to have a chance at making it together. So don’t ever tell anyone what I’m about to tell you, okay?”

Evie nodded her head, her eyes wide.

“You are not the first Babygirl your Daddy has brought with him to the Hotel Bentmoore,” he said. “He had two others before you. At least, two others that I know of. Has he ever mentioned them?”

“He told me about one. Jennifer,” she whispered. “He said they broke up when they realized they didn’t want the same things anymore.”

“That’s true. They didn’t want the same things anymore,” Mr. Cox said. “At first, Jennifer was his Babygirl, just like you are now. But after a while, Jennifer didn’t want to be just his Babygirl. She decided she wanted to be his slave. Sounds familiar?”

Evie gasped and put her hand to her mouth.

“When your Daddy realized what was going on, how her needs had changed, he offered to help her find a man who would take good care of her, and treat her like a slave. And your Daddy found her the perfect man, exactly what she wanted: someone who would treat her like a cherished object, like valued property. She and your Daddy parted on amicable terms. I still see Jennifer from time to time. She and her Master visit the Hotel Bentmoore on occasion. She’s very happy as his slave. It was a good fit.”

Mr. Cox rested his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers.

“Now, the girl your Daddy had before Jennifer, her name was Clara. She and your Daddy did not part on amicable terms. She wanted to be his Babygirl, yes, but only on a part time basis, and only when it met her conditions. She treated their relationship like a business arrangement. I only met her once. I didn’t like her at all.” He grimaced in memory.

“Soon enough, your Daddy grew tired of her attitude, and told her he was done with her, that they were through. She didn’t take it well. She took a baseball bat to his car, and ended up having a restraining order served against her.”

Evie shook her head vigorously. “I would never do something like that to Daddy. Never ever.”

“I know. You’re not like Clara. You’re not like Jennifer, either. I really think, if you tried, you could be everything your Daddy wants in a Babygirl. You could be his for as long as you want, maybe even forever. But you’re not trying hard enough, Evie.”

“So what do I do?” Tears began to flood her eyes and drip down her cheeks. “I don’t understand what he wants.”

Mr. Cox sighed. “Do you remember the story you told me of how the two of you met? How your Daddy saw you in the restaurant with your date, throwing water in his face after he’d been rude to you? Mr. Altman ran after you to ask you out, remember?”

“Yes,” Evie said, wiping her cheek.

“That’s the kind of girl he wants, Evie. He wants a girl who’s not afraid to show a man what she’s thinking or feeling. The kind of girl who will make her likes and dislikes plain to see. He wants a girl who will react.”

“But if I do something wrong, and he has to punish me, I still have to listen to him—”

“Yes, you have to listen to your Daddy as much as you can. But you still have to react to his punishments, and show him if you don’t like what he’s doing. Or if you like it, you should show him that, too. And Evie, even the best Babygirls sometimes don’t listen to their Daddies. They have their own opinions. Your Daddy can’t appreciate your unique personality anymore if you don’t show him you have one.”

Evie stared at the bed, thoughtful. “I don’t want Daddy to think I don’t have my own personality anymore,” she said. “I still want to be me. I just want to be a good girl for him.”

“I know,” Mr. Cox said. “Being a good girl for him means being you, Evie. Mr. Altman doesn’t want a robot, he wants a girl with fire in her blood. You need to show him you still have it, or you’re going to lose him.”

Evie was quiet for a moment. Then she raised her chin and met her host’s eyes head on, her gaze full of steel.

“Tell me what to do,” she said.

~ * * * ~

Late that night, Evie was summoned for the final time to her activity room. She had been given a respite of a few hours to nap and eat, after which she had been ordered to bathe, dress, and prepare for her Daddy’s return.

She was ready when the liaison came to take her. At least, she felt ready.

As usual, the liaison made no remark on her attire, or even passed her a cursory glance. But the one other male guest she passed in the hallway stopped to stare at her, giving her a smile of heavy approval as she walked by. Evie smiled back, grateful for the small sign of validation.

Evie had put on a form-fitting white blouse with tight sleeves and a frilled collar. The buttons pulled across her chest, accentuating her softly rounded breasts. She had left the top few buttons open, and while the collar covered up some of her cleavage, by no means did it hide it all. As she walked, the soft frilly fabric swayed, revealing a hint of rising flesh.

Her skirt was brown, A-shaped, and ended just above her smooth, creamy thighs. It hugged her waist and girlish hips, showing off her young, feminine figure most becomingly.

Beneath the skirt, she wore sheer, almost translucent, thigh-high stockings. As she walked, the sashaying skirt would rise above the hem of her stockings, revealing a glimpse of bare flesh and lacy garter. (The male guest in the hallway had obviously caught a peak of the thin satin ribbon, and had stopped to stare.)

Her hair was pulled back behind her ears in a matching brown headband, and fell down her back in a plait. Shiny brown mary-jane shoes with three-inch heels finished her ensemble. Evie looked like a chic, young, haughty school girl.

When she saw Mr. Altman standing in the activity room, facing away from the door and deep in conversation with Mr. Cox, she didn’t even try to stop herself. She ran at him, giving him barely enough time to turn around and put his arms out before she was flying into them. She hugged him tight around the neck, then kissed his cheeks over and over.

“Daddy! Daddy, I’ve missed you so much,” she cried.

“I missed you too, Evie,” Mr. Altman said with a chuckle, pulling her arms away from his neck a little but still hugging her back. “How is my Babygirl?”

“I’m fine, Daddy,” Evie said, lowering her heels and moving her arms around his waist. “But I missed you terribly.”

“Did you enjoy the hotel, though, my love? I was hoping you’d have a chance to do some horseback riding, or go on a hike or two while I was gone.”

When Evie looked at a loss for an answer, Mr. Cox stepped in. “I’m afraid I kept her too busy for that, Altman,” he said. “I didn’t want her doing anything too dangerous while she was in my care.”

“Oh, well, at least I know you didn’t leave her bored,” Mr. Altman replied. “You look amazing, Evie.”

“Thank you Daddy! Do you like my hair? I’m wearing my new headband—”

“How was your trip, Altman?” Mr. Cox interrupted. “Did it go the way you planned?”

“Not exactly,” Mr. Altman replied, peeling Evie’s arms away from his waist and turning back to Mr. Cox. “I had to meet with some investors….”

As Mr. Altman resumed his business talk with Mr. Cox, Evie sat down on the bed, waiting for her Daddy’s attention to come back around to her. But it was soon clear that, for the time being, Mr. Altman was happy to talk “man to man” with his long-time friend.

Once again, the two were lost in conversation, and had completely forgotten about the woman in the room.

But this time, Evie had no intention of letting the conversation go on without her, while she just sat and waited like a servant to be noticed. She had practiced with Mr. Cox a little show for her Daddy, and if he was too preoccupied to give her the attention she needed, well then, she would just start the show without him!

As the two men talked, relaxed in their male camaraderie, Evie crawled across the bed and retrieved the teddy bear on the side table that had been so well-used merely hours before. It was about to be used again, and this time, with a new pair of eyes as audience, or so Evie hoped.

Slowly, Evie lay down on the bed and pulled out her hair out from under her head, creating a billowy soft halo across the sheets. Then, she raised her knees and flipped off her shoes, letting them drop with a clatter to the floor. Neither of the men reacted to the sound.

Carefully, she pulled her skirt up her satiny thighs, one inch at a time, until the fabric brushed against the skin of her rounded ass. She wore no panties underneath.

The two men still did not notice her.

Evie spread her legs open wide, feeling the cool room air hit her shaved mound and moistening pussy. She shivered in delight, opening her legs even more.

With her free hand, she traced a trail down her stomach, past her bunched up skirt, until she came to the wet and puffy folds of her pussy. Curving her fingers, she slipped her hand inside.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mr. Altman caught some movement coming from the bed, and turned his head. He stopped his conversation mid-sentence.

“Evie, for the love of God, what are you doing?”

“I missed you, Daddy,” Evie breathed. Without stopping her hand from its playful movements, Evie continued to finger-fuck her own cunt. A look of intense concentration flitted over her features.

Now, knowing she had her Daddy’s full attention, Evie brought the teddy bear into play. Carefully, she rested the plush doll between her legs, and squeezed her smooth thighs shut. Then she began to scissor them, giving the two men a peak-show of the doll being hugged and rubbed against her mound.

Evie grabbed the head of the bear and began to brush it, ever so gently, against her gaping, wet folds. At first, she moved slowly, but after only a few moments, her tempo began to speed up, the caresses of the ticklish bear rushing her into a frenzy of arousal.

“Evie, stop it! For God’s sake, Evie!”

“I want you so badly, Daddy. But you were talking to Mr. Cox. I couldn’t wait anymore. I just needed a little…” Her voice trailed off and her eyes squeezed shut. Her hand pressed the stuffed bear against her sopping cunt and rubbed. Evie let out a loud moan.

“Evie, stop this now!”

“I can’t Daddy. It feels so good.”

The fur of the bear stuck in clumps now, wet and sticky from her juices. Evie began to roll across the bed, the bear held tight between her legs. She squealed with pleasure.

“Evie, stop this right now, or by God I’ll punish you right here in front of Mr. Cox!”

Evie came up to her knees in front of Mr. Altman and continued to brush the bear against her open pussy lips with long, hard strokes.

“Are you sure you want me to stop, Daddy? Are you sure?”

When Mr. Altman didn’t immediately reply, too frozen to do anything but stare at her, Evie grinned. She continued her quick, steady rhythm with her hand.

She began to buck her pelvis back and forth, moving in time with the coated, prickly bear that had become a squashed ball in her hand, rubbing up against her clit. Evie spread her labia open as much as she could, giving the two men a good view of her inner folds, and circled the bear around it.

“Oh, Daddy, it feels so good…Daddy, I need to come.”

“Don’t you dare, Evie, don’t you fucking dare!”

“Daddy, I can’t help myself—”

She began to rub the brown bear roughly inside her folds, gyrating her body around it and making a series of plaintive “oooh” sounds.

“It feels so good Daddy, I can’t stop, I can’t stop—”

“Evie!”

“Ooooh,” Evie moaned, rubbing herself fast and hard with the bear and jerking wildly. She arched her back and tilted her head, thrusting her hips and squealing like an animal.

Her orgasm was long and intense, and Mr. Altman seemed to react to it instinctively, reaching a hand to his cock and touching it through his pants without even realizing it.

As Evie rode out her orgasm, her hand began to slow down. The bear lay damp and inert in her limp hand. Evie collapsed on the bed, breathing hard.

For a moment, Mr. Altman stood staring at her, unable to tear his eyes away from her heaving, sweaty body and the lump of stuffed bear that had rolled a bit away from her relaxed grip. Then he turned to look at Mr. Cox.

“My God, Cox, what did you do to her while I was gone?”

Mr. Cox quickly wiped the grin from his face. From behind Mr. Altman, he had been smiling at Evie during the whole show, and giving her looks of encouragement.

“I don’t know what you mean, Altman. She’s the same girl she was when got here.”

“Oh no she’s not! The Evie I arrived with would never have behaved in such a way as she just did!”

“Well, do you mind it?”

For a second, Mr. Altman’s eyes gleamed, a look of intense pleasure washing over his face. But then he turned back toward Evie, and adopted a stern grimace.

“Get up, young lady,” he ordered, pulling her from the bed. “You have behaved like an insolent brat in front of my friend and your host. I will let him watch you being punished, so he knows the matter has been dealt with.”

Evie tried to pull her hand away from Mr. Altman’s, a fact he noted with some surprise. He squeezed her hand harder so she couldn’t pull away.

“Please, Daddy, I—”

“Are you arguing with me, young lady?”

“Please don’t punish me! I couldn’t help myself!” She twisted her arm, trying to escape his grip. Mr. Altman’s lips curled into a devious grin.

“Couldn’t help yourself, eh? Well now, neither can I.” He forced her to bend over the edge of the bed, kept her down with the palm of his hand, and spread her legs apart with his foot. As her legs separated, her skirt lifted up, revealing the creamy swells of her bottom. Her inner thighs were still glistening from her juices, the aftereffects of her recent orgasm.

With his free hand, Mr. Altman unbuckled his belt and pulled it from around his waist.

“Would you like to administer a few swats, Cox? After all, she did misbehave in front of you, too.”

“No, that’s okay, Altman. I’ll be happy just to watch you handle it.”

Evie continued to struggle against the bed, twisting her body this way and that in an attempt to flee her Daddy’s hold.

“Please Daddy! Please don’t punish me! I promise I’ll be better now!”

“Yes, you will, and this will serve as a reminder to you.” He raised the belt high in the air and brought it back down against her rump with a resounding smack!

Evie hollered and bucked.

Smack!

“Daddy! Please!”

Smack!

“It hurts!”

Smack!

“Ow Daddy please it hurts!”

Smack!

Evie continued to yell and beg, and the smacks kept raining down on her ass, until her skin had taken on a rosy red glow, crisscrossed here and there with pale stripes of welts.

After a few moments, Evie lay motionless on the bed, crying and beaten into submission. But her Daddy wasn’t done.

“You will behave yourself—smack!—in front of—smack!—my friends—smack!—like a good girl—smack!—should!—smack!—Is that—smack!—understood—smack!—Babygirl?”—SMACK!

“Yes, Daddy,” Evie sobbed. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Good,” Mr. Altman said. Finally, he stood up, and stepped away from Evie’s slumped body.

As he looped his belt back around his waist, Evie stood up from the bed and rubbed her bottom, looking like a chastised and petulant child.

“You know I do this for your own good, Evie,” Mr. Altman said. “You need to be a good girl for Daddy, okay?”

“Yes, Daddy. I know,” she said, staring down at the floor and looking contrite. “I love you,” she added. Mr. Altman smiled. The look in his eyes was warm and forgiving, but the bulge in his pants could not be denied.

“Mr. Cox, I think it’s time I took my Babygirl back up to our room. I need to give her some Daddy attention,” Mr. Altman said, ignoring the tent of his pants. “In case we don’t see each other for a while, it was great to see you again.”

“You too, Altman,” Mr. Cox replied. “If there’s anything further I can help you with, just let me know.”

“Oh, you’ve clearly helped a lot, my friend. I have my spitfire Babygirl back. Now I just need to remind her again who’s in charge.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard, Altman. And don’t forget what I told you.”

“No, of course not.”

As Mr. Cox pressed the button to summon the liaison, Evie passed her Daddy a questioning look. Seeing her confusion, Mr. Altman gave her a smug, evil grin.

“Mr. Cox told me how he had to give you your first enema,” he said. “He said you didn’t much like it. I’ll be remembering that, Babygirl.”

As he grabbed her arm and pulled her out the door, Evie passed Mr. Cox a look of pure horror. Mr. Cox grinned back, and winked.

He sighed as he heard the elevator hum. Evie had been fun, and he hoped, next time he saw his friend Mr. Altman, she would still be with him. But that was up to her now. He had helped as much as he could.

A scream echoed from somewhere down the hallway. Mr. Cox smiled at the sound.