Chapter Seven

Taylor was wearing a fluffy, terry bathrobe with nothing beneath it.

She felt small and vulnerable as she stood before the king. They were in the grand room of the hotel suite. It was about twenty times the size of Taylor's entire apartment.

And about a million times nicer.

"I had you detained for several reasons," Ireneo explained. His back was to her as he faced the glass wall, looking out over a twinkling Manhattan. "If you absolutely insist, I will free you."

He slowly turned around until he was looking at her.

Damn. He was beyond sexy. He hadn't changed clothes yet, but his suitcoat was off. His tie had been discarded, too. The sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt were rolled halfway up his muscular forearms.

That shirt fit him nicely, with his hard-packed, strong chest visible through the thin, soft fabric.

His skin was a warm, rich caramel with olive and bronze undertones. His eyes were a piercing green.

"Do you want to be freed, little girl?" he asked with a pointed stare.

"No, sir," she said meekly.

It wasn't fear talking. The last thing she wanted was to go back to her apartment or be away from King Ireneo.

"Good. Just know that when in my custody you will do exactly as I say. Am I clear on that?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're a very respectful girl. I appreciate that. Keep it up, and that little bottom of yours won't be blistered. But disobey me and, well…" He shook his head, that devilish smile of his returning, "you'll regret it."

She gulped.

"Yes, sir," she said in a trembling voice.

"If at anytime you wish to leave my custody, all you have to do is let me know. Until then, I expect you to follow my rules.

"Rule number one: little girls wear diapers."

He motioned toward a nearby table. A pack of diapers rested atop it, Little Taylor gasping as she noticed them for the first time.

"I do not know what kind of Little you are. Some need nappies. Others don't. But I don't want you having an accident in the hotel bed. So, you'll sleep in one. Tomorrow, we travel. But first, in the morning, I have some important business to attend to. I cannot have you slowing me down with constant potty breaks. That means, little girl, you'll use your diapers. No toilets. Have I made myself clear?"

It took her nearly half a minute to respond. Finally, she willed the words to come out. "Sir, but what about…you know?"

"I believe I've made myself clear, but to clarify—you will have wet diapers and you will have dirty diapers. Or you'll have a very sore bottom. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," she said, hanging her head.

"Good. Disrobe. I will get you padded for the evening."

"Sir, I'll be naked!" she cried.

Before she realized what was happening, Ireneo had a hold of her elbow, escorting her to the highly polished round table where the diapers rested. Instead of grabbing a nappy, though, he spent his efforts bending her over the table. The robe was hiked up, exposing her bare rump. His flattened palm slapped against it, delivering three crisp, jarring swats.

"I'm sorry, sir!" she cried.

"Your king told you to do something. ‘Yes, sir'—followed by complete obedience—is the only proper response."

He gave her five more smacks.

"I'm sorry, sir!"

"I suspect you are."

He helped her stand up straight. He then wrapped his arms around her and allowed her to cry into his chest, her tears soaking his expensive shirt.

"There, there, little one. It's all over. If you behave. I had to show you what will happen if you disobey me. When I give orders, I'm accustomed to people following them. And the rules I give you are for your own good. I will protect you. But you must do as I say. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," she sniffled.

"Good girl. Now, out of that robe."

She shrugged out of it and let it fall to the floor.

"No, little girl. Drape it nicely over the chair."

With her bottom still smarting from that spanking, she didn't dare argue with the command. A moment later, the robe was as he'd requested.

A mixture of fear and unadulterated excitement surged through her as she stood before him completely naked.

"Have you worn a diaper recently?" he asked.

She blushed at the question. She shook her head. "No, sir. I cannot afford them."

"Ah. That confirms what I suspected. It was circumstances, not a lack of desire, that kept you from it. You don't have to worry about that now. You have access to more money than you could possibly imagine."

The diaper crinkled loudly as he slid it from the already opened pack. There was also lotion and powder. He grabbed them both and then, to Taylor's surprise, scooped her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her effortlessly through the giant suite, down the hall, and to the main bedroom.

As they went, she stifled another gasp as she caught sight of one of the security team members standing silently in a corner. They were so good at their job that she hadn't noticed them until now.

Oh crap! How many were in the main room? How many had witnessed her spanking? And now—as her naked body was carried away—they knew she was about to be diapered!

There wasn't anything she could do—except for end this little adventure right now. And she sure didn't want to do that.

So, she swallowed the bitter pill of humiliation as King Ireneo laid her atop his bed.

He unfolded the diaper, smoothed it out, and wrapped an arm around her legs to hoist her bottom off the mattress. She cooed softly. He lowered her down on the diaper he'd placed beneath her and said, "Be a good girl and spread your legs."

She was trembling as she did so. Not only was she exposed, but her wetness would be evident. She could only imagine how noticeable it was, her feminine dew glistening in the overhead lights.

She obeyed, but her legs were trembling even more now as she forced them open.

"There is no reason to be nervous, my dear. I will see your little cunny many times. And when we get back to the island, you will have attendants. They too will see you. You might as well get used to this."

Attendants? What did he mean by that?

Her mind was awash with possibilities. She didn't have time to dwell on them all because she became too hyper fixated on what was happening at that moment the second the king began massaging a dollop of lotion into her inner thighs and around her pubic mound and pussy.

She wanted him to explore. It wouldn't take much to relieve the ache that had set in between her legs. He could just find her little pearl, use a dab of lotion, and stroke it gently until the pressure was allowed to escape.

Unfortunately, he did not indulge her unspoken fantasy.

Instead, he gave her a liberal measure of baby powder, filling the air with a quick white poof along with its comforting aroma.

"Your obedience is commendable," Ireneo said. "You're being such a good girl."

Taylor closed her eyes and soaked in the praise, along with the king's deft touch, as he brought the diaper to her front and fastened the four tapes.

It was so bulky. And soft. Not to mention comforting.

But it didn't compare to Ireneo's touch. That was by far the best part.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

"No, sir," she said, opening her eyes.

"Good. Then you will sleep without a shirt. The diaper will suffice."

"What? But I need—"

"You need to obey. You will understand, little girl, that if your king wants to see your body then you will show your body. Or my belt can come off."

"Yes, Your Highness. I'm sorry, sir."

He nodded. "You've had a big day. You must rest. You will sleep in my bed so I can ensure you are safe and tended to in the night."

Butterflies danced in Taylor's stomach.

When she'd awoken that morning, she sure hadn't dreamed how her day would turn out. She'd assumed she'd go back to sleep on that uncomfortable cot she called a bed back in her ratty apartment.

Instead, she was going to sleep in the giant bed fit for—a literal—king.

And she was going to sleep like a baby.