"Hmph." The noise was half laughter, and half begrudging acceptance. It all sounded a little forced, but he supposed that was to be expected considering how new she still was, and it was definitely progress. She wasn't even crying... Though her cheeks made it obvious that she'd simply run out of tears. "In future you will make sure to point out that -I- am the best, whore, but your answer will do. We will see that you -are- improved later." He turned away, deciding that that her failure to massage his ego was too small a thing for him to take his frustration out on. He wouldn't let it slip again, of course, but she'd lifted his mood a little and he was no longer just hunting for an excuse to hurt her.<br/><br/>He drummed his fingers against the arm of the chair, eyes watching her and his mind mulling things over. The man had a pair of guests that evening; important people, whom he needed to impress. The question in his mind was whether she was ready and able to be among the evening's entertainment... She still looked a little too -beaten- to be truly appealing to an eye not quite as sadistic as his own, and besides she had far too much to learn... Still, though, he was sure he could find some use for her... Perhaps just a blowjob or two, or simply having her flashing herself for their pleasure... Finally, his mind settled on his picture of the evening, and her place in it, and for the first time since she'd been reunited with him he smiled.<br/><br/>First off, they had to wash. He climbed to his feet and headed toward the door, fingers clicking over one shoulder to heel her. "Come along." He didn't look back, and simply expected her to follow as he headed upstairs toward his large, opulent bath. The marble that made up the entirety of the floor was cut into a deep alcove in the center, which was already filling with hot, bubbly water. Along one side were a variety of ointments, soaps and scents to use, and a full wall of the place was a mirror. There was even a servant standing outside, though for now Quentin would teach Zoey instead. He began to strip, while speaking instructions curtly and clearly, in an all-too-familiar manner.<br/><br/>"You do not strip for the bath; if you're dressed when we arrive, and I don't tell you otherwise, you just get your clothes wet. Nor do you wash unless I expressly tell you. You are here to clean me, and perhaps pleasure me, not because I have some misplaced interest in your own soiled, filthy body, understand?" He waited for her meek nod. "Today, though, I need you clean too, so once I am clean you will have a short while to dislodge the ink, cum and filth from your body, and to mask your injuries." He dropped his shirt to one side, and then worked on his pants.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>