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 The Babysitter II-- The Spanking!

   Chapter 1 by Curvasion

   The management at Le Palais de la Serpentine knew how to satisfy their
wealthy clientele.  Their entertainment staff was not, as widely believed,
culled from the ranks of 'professionals.' Indeed, the guests Le Palais
attracted had no interest whatsoever in the feined passions of the mundane
hacks of the coitus trade.

   Rather, the hotel employed skilled and resourceful recruiters to acquire
naive young women, often tourists themselves, who had no prior experience
in this line of work, and no comprehension of what they were getting
themselves into.  Girls who were not only young, healthy, and beautiful,
but whose circumstances made it unlikely that they would quickly be missed
and searched for.

   Such a young woman was the bellhop who assisted Mrs.  Paul and Mrs. 
Divergent with their luggage.

   Her comprehension diminished by a regimen of covert but powerful
mind-control, the young redhead was blithly unaware of the attention her
uniform attracted, exposing as it did the full length of her beautiful
legs, and an appreciable portion of her buttocks.

   And as this lovely bellhop stood wobbling on her high heels in the new
guests' bedroom, she was equally unaware of the 'decoration' which adorned
the bedpost.

   'What is your name, child?' asked Mrs.  Divergent of the bellhop.

   'Bernadette,' said the young woman, smiling shyly.

   'How lovely,' complimented Mrs.  Divergent, reaching out to brush a
stray golden strand from the bellhop's forehead.  'I hope we have need for
your services again soon, my pet.'

   'That would please me, madam,' said Bernadette.

   'You may go now.  But haven't you forgotten something?'

   'Oh!' said the bellhop.  She quickly reached into the pocket of her
jacket and produced a silver coin.  'Thank you so much!' she said, handing
it to Mrs.  Divergent.  She curtsied and left.

   Mrs.  Divergent deposited the 'tip' in her purse, an amused smile on her
lips.  This establishment really thought of everything!

   Turning to Mrs.  Paul, she said, 'There's still a few hours before shop
closing time!  I think I'll hit a few boutiques!  How about you?'

   'I'm feeling lazy after all that time in the plane,' said Mrs.  Paul. 
She had sunk down into a lushly-cushioned chaise longue, and was idly
gazing at the 'decoration.'

   'Well, somebody has to get us unpacked...' shrugged Mrs.  Divergent as
she turned towards the door.

   Mrs.  Paul looked at her.  'Slave-driver!'

   An athletic, attractive woman, Mrs.  Paul was wearing a pair of
extremely short denim cutoffs that showed off her pretty legs.  She sat
cross-legged, her raised foot wagging rhythmically in the air.  She faced
the bedpost 'decoration', and wore the fixed and patient stare of a cat
surveiling a mousehole.

   The 'decoration' was cunningly arranged, with magenta ribbons serving
both as restraints and color-accent.  The main theme was voluptuous nudity,
but the piece had a diabolical subtext-- only a single naked foot provided
support on tiptoe, and an elegant silken rope was tied in a noose around
subject's neck.  A white rubber ballgag completed the composition, insuring
hours of peaceful enjoyment.

   For minutes, the only sound was Mrs.  Paul's even respiration, and tiny,
pathetic sighs eminating from the 'decoration.'

   But then the telephone rang.

   'Sarah, dear,' said Mrs.  Divergent.  'I'm calling from the lobby. 
Could you phone back to our house-sitter-- what's her name, Joan?-- and
give her our number.  Just in case she has to reach us.'

   'Will do,' said Mrs.  Paul, and hung up.  She leaned back in her chair
and returned her stare to the 'decoration.' 'When I'm good and ready!' she
thought.

   -------

   'Penny should be supervised and helped during her bubble baths.'

   So stated rule 31 of the guide provided by Penny's guardians.

   For Joan, this advisory was completely incomprehensible.  If Penny was
capable of cooking a gourmet meal as she demonstrated last night, why
should she need help performing the simple act of bathing?

   For any ordinary adult woman, having another woman 'supervise' her
bathing would be an outrageous invasion of privacy.  But Penny merely
smiled as Joan helped the beautiful nude beauty lower herself into the
bath.

   Having been given license to do so, Joan took over much of the scrubbing
of the young woman, even though Penny was obviously capable of managing
alone.  Joan found herself especially concerned about the cleanliness of
Penny's stomach and chest, which she vigorously swabbed for several minutes
as Penny became more and more confused, her breathing heavy, her head
swaying back and forth.

   'What an incredible three months this promises to be!' thought Joan
afterward as she rubbed Penny down with a long, thick towel.

   Joan wished to take Penny grocery shopping.  Having learned the night
before that Penny was a remarkable cook, Joan concluded that this talent
would extend as well to the stocking of the refrigerator.

   But in this endeavor, Joan found, among the rules provided to her, one
that was particularly problematic, number 17-- 'Penny must be collared and
leashed at all times when out in public.'

   Penny, of course, was a human being-- indeed, she was a fully-grown
adult woman, astonishingly beautiful in appearance, childlike and
inarticulate in mind.  To escort such a woman about on a leash would
attract unwanted attention and inquiries.

   As an experiment, Joan collared Penny and attached her to a leash for a
walk around the yard.  She quickly discovered another complication-- Penny
adapted to the leash by crawling on her hands and knees!

   Joan tried to discourage this, but only inspired much wimpering and
consternation from the timid girl, who would only stand when hoisted up
forcefully by the leash.

   Joan could only conclude that it was part of Penny's training. 
Unfathomable training, since the behavior made Penny quite unsuitable for a
public appearance (however charming in private.)

   It was only when their course passed over a paved sidewalk that Joan
discovered the secret.  Coming up to the concrete, Penny got to her feet to
pass over it.

   Joan redirected Penny to walk along the sidewalk, and found that the
young woman stayed on her feet as long as she was over pavement.

   At 11 AM, Joan outfitted Penny in a sleeveless green dress -- the most
modest outfit in Penny's limited wardrobe.  Unfortunately, it had a
plunging 'V' neckline, which not only showed off Penny's attractive
breasts, but would do nothing to conceal the collar and leash.

   Joan found, however, that by tying a scarf around Penny's neck, she was
able to hide the collar and make the leash less conspicuous.  She had
another idea for how to handle things once they reached the market.

   As they embarked on their journey in a Mercedes provided by Penny's
guardians, Joan steered the car for a few blocks before realizing that she
didn't know this neighborhood very well.

   Turning to Penny, she said, 'Do you know where we can shop for
groceries, pumpkin?'

   Penny looked at her, not comprehending.

   'Where do we go to get food?' Joan pantomined rubbing her tummy while
repeating the word 'food.'

   Penny suddenly understood.  She pointed to the left and smiled. 
'Eagle!' she said.

   Joan took the turn and proceeded.  After only a few blocks, Penny said
'Eagle' again and happily pointed down a street to the right.

   Joan took the turn, and in a few minutes was pulling into a Giant Eagle,
as Penny blissfully breathed the word 'Eagle.'

   Taking Penny from the car, Joan found a nearby shopping cart.  She tied
Penny's leash to the push handle, and then propped her own purse up in the
basket to cover the knot.  By this means, Penny was controlled by the
leash, but was not conspicuous-- she looked like any other shopper (except
more beautiful).

   It being a weekday morning, the supermarket wasn't crowded.  Joan
avoided other customers as she and Penny negotiated the produce section,
she pulling the cart, and Penny pushing it along.

   Joan read Penny's expression to determine what items interested her.  As
they passed the celery stocks, she prompted, 'Penny?' The beautiful girl
timidly pointed at the celery.  'Go ahead and take it, dear,' Joan replied.


   Joan was touched by the light that came into Penny's eyes as she reached
out and took a package of celery stalks.  She held them it in both hands,
and looked it over front and back, greatly cherishing it.

   'It seems the poor child hasn't had much opportunity to acquire things
on her own,' thought Joan.

   As they continued shopping, Penny picked up so many things that Joan was
fearful she would buy the whole store.  But she was being selective, her
knowledge of food coming into play as she shook honeydew melons or smelled
cantalope to test for ripeness.  As Joan had hoped, Penny was choosing only
the best to put in their cart.

   Joan couldn't avoid other customers as they ventured past the produce
section into the aisles of canned goods.  She and her beautiful companion
had no choice but to squeeze past people coming the other way, and be
subject to their scrutiny.  Penny's leash would surely be noticed.

   But Joan discovered that people were actually averting their eyes.  It
was because Penny was such an attractive girl-- people, both men and women,
were embarassed to be caught staring.

   By the time Joan and Penny had finished shopping, the cart was brimming
with groceries enough to feed an army.  'That ought to do for a week,' said
Joan, amused to be indulging Penny this way.  The pretty thing looked so
happy!

   As she was unloading at the checkout counter, Joan spotted something
behind her that made her stop and stare--

   Two women were shopping; one an older, sophisticated woman, the other a
pretty young woman who sullenly maintained her station at the handle of the
shopping cart.

   It was too far away to tell for sure, but Joan could swear that there
was a leash running between the young woman's throat and the cart's push
handle.

   Chapter 2

   When they finished unpacking the groceries, Joan collapsed on the couch.
Penny was still in a happy mood as she slipped off her clothing and went
over to kiss at Joan's feet.

   'You don't have to do that with me, sweetheart,' said Joan.  She'd been
trying to break the girl of this unsanitary habit.

   Penny rose to her feet.  'Cuddles?' she asked hopefully.

   Joan's eyes brightened involutarily.  'At this time of the day?'

   She'd acquired a decidely inappropriate lust for her charge that she was
ill-equiped to disguise.  In truth, she'd gladly 'cuddle' with the
big-titted sexpot any time of the day or night.

   'Certainly, dear,' she said evenly, with great composure.  She reached
up her arms to Penny.

   Before when the two had cuddled, Penny had worn a 'frilly' babydoll
nightie.  As the voluptuous girl lowered herself into Joan's lap, Joan
realized that she was going to be handling the girl in her fully-naked
state for the first time.

   The large but delicately formed girl was noticeably more friendly this
time as she and Joan hugged and kissed.  Penny giggled as Joan's hands
stroked the lovely girl's smooth curves.

   I wonder if you're ticklish, my dear,' whispered Joan in Penny's ear. 
She wagged a fingertip over Penny's belly, and Penny tittered.  Joan's hand
darted about the girl's body cunningly, and immediately Penny began
screaming and giggling.

   Struggle as she might, Penny couldn't escape Joan's predacious
fingertips.  The voluptuous nymphette recited a long cacophony of howls and
shrieks before Joan tired of the game and relented.  She left Penny in a
helpless state of exhaustion on the couch, and went about other household
errands.

   One of these took Joan to the answering machine, where she saw a message
was waiting.  It was Mrs.  Paul with the name of a French hotel and a phone
number.  'Call us if you need anything,' she said.

   Joan noted the number, and thought to herself of all the questions about
Penny she could ask-- questions the guardians would probably be loath to
answer!

   But there were other ways of finding answers, and Joan had ample
resources for the investigation-- an agile mind, plenty of free time-- and
full access to the object of the investigation.

   That 'object'-- a magnificent specimen of adult feminine beauty-- was
playfully folding and refolding the grocery bags from their recent shopping
trip, while murmuring 'Eagle,' over and over.  It was obvious the poor
child had never before experienced the simple pleasure of shopping!

   'Penny, dear,' said Joan, 'would you come over to the table here?' She
indicated the large coffee table in the living room.  'Now get up on the
table, dear, kneel there and keep very still.'

   Penny did as asked.  The nude girl was able to position herself
comfortably on the table.

   Joan proceeded to turn on all the lamps.  She directed the spot lamps at
Penny, and removed the shades from the others.

   'No,' she decided, 'That's still not enough light.'

   To Penny she said, 'Come with me into the kitchen, dear.'

   Penny dismounted the table and came with Joan.

   Joan had Penny climb up onto the kitchen table and lie down on her back.
She was bathed in the luminescence of the overhead fluorescent lights.

   Joan proceeded to take a magnifying glass she'd found in a drawer, and
use it to examine Penny's skin minutely.  She covered the entire length of
the young woman's body.  Penny had a marvelous, enticing complexion, but
Joan was looking for signs of something-- of what, she couldn't say for
sure.

   She worked from the girl's toes upward.  She spent an exorbitant amount
of time examining Penny's luscious bush and her nipples.  then she moved up
to Penny's face.  The quiet, trusting girl remained still as Joan brought
the magnifying glass over her chin, mouth, nose, ears, hairline, and
finally the young woman's beautiful eyes.

   Under the glass, Penny's eyes betrayed signs of the beginnings of age.
She was probably 30 or even older-- older than Joan herself, who was barely
23.

   Perhaps this was one of the secrets of Penny's appeal.  She didn't have
the shiny, brand new look of younger, pedestal-bound beauties.  Rather, she
possessed the drowsy sensuousness of the used woman.  She was not there for
show-- she was there to be fucked!

   And indeed, Joan had verified, Penny had been fucked long and often; she
certainly was no virgin.

   'Alright, honey, lets turn you over.'

   Penny's backside did not have as many interesting features for Joan's
voracious sentiments.  but for the purpose of her investigation, it was
actually more revealing.

   Penny's anus, for example, had telltale signs of bruising and chafing.
Joan felt certain that the girl had been attacked there frequently, and
with great vigor.  In fact, it must have occurred quite recently.

   More telling were the tiny, hairline scars appearing all over her
buttocks, back, and shoulders.  Joan guessed that, several years before,
Penny had been beaten severely and repeatedly.  She had found similar scars
on Penny's frontside, but not nearly so numerous.

   The chafing and calluses around Penny's wrists and ankles completed the
picture-- the young beauty had been systematically bound and tortured on
numerous occasions.

   Joan made one final discovery.  It was on the nape of Penny's neck,
where normally her hair fell to cover.

   It was a a quarter-sized design made up of the letters D and P--
Divergent and Paul?

   The design had been burned into Penny's skin, presumably with a branding
iron!

   The Babysitter II-- The Spanking!

   Chapter 3

   The day proceeded without incident, Penny spending the afternoon
swimming after having prepared lunch as her gourmet chef alter-ego.

   But Joan's thoughts were a traffic-jam of speculation about the things
she'd learned.  When had Penny been tortured, and how?  Was her personality
a defense mechanism against the abuse?  Or had she been deliberately
transformed into her current compliant state by a ruthless program of
brainwashing?

   Joan suspected the latter.  Which introduced the question of who Penny
really was.  Was she a relative of her two guardians?  Was she an employee
of theirs?  Could she be, in fact, a perfect stranger who'd been kidnapped
off the street?  With their great wealth, Mrs.  Paul and Mrs.  Divergent
could probably manage to 'acquire' a young woman in any number of ways!

   Penny's extreme beauty suggested that she'd been recruited by some very
selective method.  If they'd simply hired a model and then subjected her to
imprisonment and torture, they would have been risking a police
investigation.

   It would have been more logical for them to work through a white-slavery
ring.  Joan was assuming, of course, that such organizations were not
merely tabloid fodder, but really existed here, in America, today.

   When, in that case, had Penny's bondage begun?  She could have been
kidnapped-- from anywhere in the world-- when she was very young.  Or
perhaps it was more likely that she'd been taken as an adult.  After all,
her skills as a chef suggested that she had some kind of life before her
current state of enforced servitude.

   Another intriguing possibility occurred to Joan.  She had read a story
one time-- a work of fiction, but highly plausible-- about a farm for human
beings.  A woman could be raised on such a farm and trained from childhood
to be a slave.  The victim would know no other life.  Hypnosis and behavior
modification techniques would mold her into a docile, compliant servant.

   Skills such as gourmet cooking could be imprinted on these unfortunate
women without the necessity of developing personalities for them... 
personalities being superfluous to their eventual roles.

   Penny might actually be a farm-bred creature.  But of course, Joan had
no sure indication of where or how she came into existence.

   -----

   'Penny make dinner now,' announced Joan's curvacious charge.  She was
wearing another of the fetching aprons in her collection-- and nothing
else.

   From the doorway, Joan watched Penny moving about the kitchen.  In her
culinary mode, Penny assumed a noticeably different personality.  There was
no sign of the awkward, timid Penny who'd dropped to her knees to kiss
Joan's feet several times that day.  This Penny moved about the kitchen
confidently, assembling ingredients on the counter in an orderly fashion
and manipulating spoon, fork, and spatula with authority.

   Joan watched Penny's facial expressions.  It was subtle, but Joan could
spot flashes of a personality there, as Penny eyed a tomato suspiciously
before discarding it; the way she tilted her head fondly as a tray of
muffins rose and assumed a toasty brown hue.

   Joan was convinced that there was something there-- another self, a
past. This was not a farm-bread creature who'd been trained to cook; Penny
was a talented cook who'd somehow been reduced to a docile slave!

   After setting the table with a sumptuous feast that rivaled yesterday's
repast, Penny again apportioned her own serving into a dog dish which she
placed on the kitchen floor.  This time, Joan didn't stop her, or insist
that Penny dine at the table.  She wanted to see Penny taking her meal the
way she was accustomed to.  She persuaded herself that she was conducting
research.  She had only an academic interest in the lurid spectacle of a
gorgeously constructed specimen of nubile womanhood bent, on her knees,
delicately dining out of a dog dish like a family pet.

   As Penny took her feeding, she was very beautiful.  Obviously accustomed
to eating off the floor, she conducted herself with considerable grace and
dignity.

   Joan enjoyed the meal a great deal-- a side of beef that had been
roasted to perfection.  And it was all the sweeter to be enjoying it while
its chef humbled herself on the floor.

   -------

   Afterward, Joan again took up her vigil at the kitchen door, as Penny
washed and wiped the dishes.  Joan sensed very distinctly the presence of
Penny's alter-ego, the sophisticated cook.  Joan found this blend of beauty
and sophistication very exciting.  She wondered-- could Penny be stopped in
mid-task, and somehow be kept in her 'gourmet chef' persona?

   Joan spoke up.  'That's a fine porceline-- I wonder where they got it?'

   No answer.

   Joan ventured a few other comments, but Penny was deaf to them.

   Finally, she said, 'Penny, are you listening to me?'

   Penny stopped what she was doing and looked over.  She wore the docile,
submissive expression of her slavegirl persona.  The sound of her name, it
appeared, was some kind of cue to return to her subservient state.

   'Never mind, dear,' said Joan.

   'I'm Penny...' said the young woman quetly.  She stood looking at the
dishes for a few moments, then began washing them again, having returned to
gourmet cook mode.

   It occured to Joan that a more direct action was needed.  Joan had, in
any case, an urgent need to make contact with this sophisticated Penny, to
hold her and kiss her.

   There were only a few dishes left, so Joan must take action before Penny
reverted again.

   She came up behind Penny and took a firm stance with her legs spread
wide.  She watched Penny's naked body moving and turning from side to side
as she picked up a dish, scrubbed it, and put in in the rack to dry.  Joan
selected the end of this cycle as the time to make her move.

   As Penny's elbow came back, Joan hooked her hand around it.  She slipped
her other arm around Penny's waist and pulled her back away from the sink.

   The first signal that something had gone wrong was a crash from the
floor.  Penny had dropped the dish she was holding, and it had shattered to
bits on the tile.

   'Oh, Penny, I'm sorry!' said Joan.

   Penny looked at the dish, then at Joan.  She was obviously in shock. 
She whispered slowly, 'Penny...  bad...'

   'No, Penny, it wasn't your fault!' assured Joan.

   'Penny...  bad...  bad...'

   Joan hugged her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.  'No, sweetheart,
Penny is good!  Penny's a good girl!'

   But the beautiful nude woman was unconsolable.  She knelt on the kitchen
floor and picked up the fragments of the dish, murmuring 'Penny...  bad...'


   Joan retreated to the living room.  She felt terrible.  One of the rules
she'd been given was that Penny should not be interfered with in the
kitchen.  She was learning the hard ways that those rules should not be
broken!

   Chapter 4

   Perhaps a half hour later, Penny came into the living room and bowed,
still naked, before Joan.  She began to kiss her ward's feet.  This was the
'prostrate demonstration of respect' that the rules referred to, and that
the young woman had doubtlessly been conditioned by torture to perform. 
Out of consideration of Penny's peace of mind, Joan didn't interfere,
although she thought the whole thing a bit silly.

   When she'd finished, Penny rose to her feet and looked down at Joan
gravely.

   'Penny bad,' she said regretfully.  'Spank Penny.'

   'Oh, no dear, it wasn't your fault...' began Joan.  But then she
remembered the rule from the list--

   'Penny will not misbehave deliberately; but when she does, it's
imperative that she be spanked.'

   --and Joan had recently learned the folly of ignoring the rules!

   'Alright, Penny,' Joan said, taking Penny's hand and pulling her down to
drape across Joan's lap.  'But please don't say you're bad.  You're a very
good girl, and very pretty.'

   Penny settled down into the spanking position, and Joan felt the sublime
weight of Penny's luscious nude body resting on her thighs.

   'Ten wacks,' thought Joan.  'That ought to suffice.' She rubbed her palm
affectionately across Penny's large, firm behind.  Then she brought her
hand down and slapped Penny's buttock.

   Joan couldn't tell if it was hard enough, or if it even constituted a
spank-- from Penny's perspective, it might have been merely a friendly pat.
But Penny stirred in Joan's lap, and her head drooped fetchingly, like a
bad little girl receiving a well-deserved punishment.

   'Did that sting, dear?  Just a little?' asked Joan.

   'I'm Penny,' was the other woman's quiet reply.

   Joan proceeded to give Penny nine more of the same, administering them
slowly and studying the naked beauty's reactions to each one.

   'Alright, dear,' said Joan, 'I think you've learned your lesson.' She
began helping Penny up.

   The Joan suddenly thought, 'Am I INSANE?!?'

   Penny's round behind was looming before her, a beautiful, inviting
target only slightly blushed by Joan's token chastisement.

   'When,' thought Joan, 'am I ever going to have another chance like this?
To have an absolutely beautiful woman nude and at my mercy-- and to have
the full consent of all parties involved-- even the victim's-- that I may
conduct a physical assault upon her flesh?  To hold her in my arms,
squirming and miserable, while I prosecute statutory justice upon her naked
womanhood, at my leisure, and to the full extent that I judge to be
warranted?'

   'If I don't take full advantage of this sublime opportunity life has
thrown my way,' concluded Joan, 'I may regret it for the rest of my life!'
And Joan knew that lingering regrets would not be the story of her life...

   She caught Penny from her standing position and pulled the young woman
back onto her lap.  'NO, PENNY...' Joan's voice croaked, overwhelmed with
emotion, '...we're not...  quite...  DONE yet.' Joan took a deep breath. 
'You see, sweetheart, I want to make sure that you've learned your lesson.
This hurts me as much as it does you, dear!'

   Penny glanced back nervously as she settled her belly down upon her
caregiver's lap.  She understood that an ominous change had taken place. 
Her eyes widened as Joan ran a fingertip down her spine and dragged it
teasingly into the divide between Penny's luscious buttocks.

   'Shall we settle on another ten, dear?  asked Joan affectionately.  If
Penny had intended to respond, she would have been interrupted by the
sudden descent of Joan's hand and the resounding 'SMACK!!' as it struck
Penny's bottom.  Penny emitted a surprised gasp-- this was a much harder
spank than she'd received before!

   Joan was far more artful with the succeeding nine strokes.  She wanted
to tease Penny's anticipation as much as possible, and yet catch her pretty
captive off-guard, so that Penny would have as much difficulty as possible
coping with the discomfort Joan was so carefully inflicting upon her.

   After the second set of ten, Joan cuddled Penny to her.  'Oh, Penny,
you're such a pretty girl with such a pretty behind!  You won't mind,
really, if we go for fifty in this next set?' Penny gasped and squirmed in
Joan's grip, but the caregiver had no difficulty folding her back over in
position.

   Then she proceeded with the slow, difficult, arduous spanking.  The
strokes varied widely, from teasing soft pats to swift stinging attacks. 
Joan's manner was always affectionate and tender.  When Penny began to
tremble and sob, Joan would stand by, waiting for the young lady to compose
herself, while gently reminding her naked captive of how many strokes
remained.  It was impossible to tell if she was really concerned for the
nubile young lady's welfare, or was only mocking her.

   Finally, the fiftieth stroke was reached, and Penny lay across Joan's
lap, her body lurching in great, heart-rending sobs.  Her bottom glowed a
bright pint, which Joan examined with satisfaction.  She felt rather proud
of what her hand had rendered, and the sounds of Penny's weeping were to
Joan like a crowd's applause.

   She bent forward and kissed Penny's tender bottom.  'My lovely girl,'
she whispered.  'I'm going to kiss away your sorrows, one kiss for every
spank...' She blew lightly over the blazing globes.  '...And then, who
knows?  Maybe you'll be ready for another fifty!'

   ---

   It was a cozy afternoon at Le Palais de la Serpentine.

   Mrs.  Paul was playing in the bathroom with a member of the
entertainment staff who had earlier served as the suite's 'decoration.' The
nubile young woman was naked in the tub, bound hand and foot, and Mrs. 
Paul was holding her head under the water.

   Suddenly the phone rang.  Mrs.  Paul turned to listen, but heard no
stirring of anyone going to answer it.  She let out a deep sigh of
disappointment, and released the young woman in order to go answer the
phone.  The young entertainer lunged forward from her submerged position,
gasping and whimpering.  Then she hung her head over the edge of the tub,
which was too deep for her to maneuver herself out of.

   Mrs.  Divergent had not answered the phone because she was busy fucking
another member of the staff, the redheaded bellhop who had assisted the two
Americans with their luggage.  The older woman had permitted her beautiful
young guest to retain her cute bellhop cap, but otherwise the youngster was
quite naked, her nubile physique arching upwards as Mrs.  Divergent held
her pinned down, plowing into her rhythmically with a strap-on.

   Mrs.  Paul carried the phone into the next room.  'Hello?  Ahh, good to
hear from you, Joan!  How are things?  How is my little Penny?'

   Mrs.  Paul laughed and sat down.  'I see.  Which one of the rules did
you want to ask about?  Oh yes, the spanking rule.  What is bothering you
about it, Joan?'

   Mrs.  Paul listened for a minute, her smile widening from moment to
moment.  She giggled.  'Did she have to be hospitalized?' she asked.

   She listened again, then replied, 'Well, Joan, it doesn't hurt Penny to
sulk a little and consider the errors of her ways.  Anyway, she doesn't
need to be able to sit down-- she can always crouch on her knees.'

   Mrs.  Paul nodded her head.  'That's fine.  Your always welcome to
consult with me about these matters, but I can assure you you've performed
exactly as expected.  In fact, I'd like you to give Penny another spanking,
twice as hard, right now.'

   She listened again.  'Of course I'm serious!' Mrs.  Paul confirmed,
laughing.  'Consider it an order from your employer!'

   She added, 'And tell pretty little Penny that her Auntie Sarah sends her
love!'

   She hung up the phone and sat there for a few moments, smiling warmly.

   End of Part Two!