Susan awoke with a start as her door swung open. 14 was there with her meal tray and 2 familiar packages. "You must eat quickly, then prepare yourself. There will be an inspection in an hour."
Susan was still struggling to get her sleep addled brain working as the door swung shut. Inspection? Well, she had been through inspections before but never in a training brothel. She sat on her bed with the tray on her lap. The oatmeal was warm this morning, and there was some brown sugar sprinkled on the top. She must be doing something right she thought as she ran her finger around the bowl, gathering up the last traces of the precious food and popping it in her mouth. She drank her juice and took the vitamin pill, then 3 more cups of water from her sink and moved to the packages. Like last time, the smaller one was her make up kit and the larger one was another copy of the uniform she had worn before. Must be getting these things wholesale she thought, but she gratefully slid the lace panties and bra on savoring the feel of clothing against her skin.
Just over half an hour later by her estimation, Susan knelt on the floor, her blanket under her knees to protect her white stockings from the hard concrete. She hoped that she had managed to get her make up right this time and the heels on her feet felt more natural than before. Susan had braided her hair into a tight French braid that ran down to the middle of her shoulders. She experienced a pang of memory as she did, recalling her time at the academy when this had been a daily ritual. The costume was tight and uncomfortable, but just the feeling of clothing made her feel better.
The door swung open and 10 stood there. Susan was surprised to see her wearing clothes herself, but not surprised at the outfit. 10 had on a tight black leather corset that tucked her waist and thrust up her already impressive bust. Leather shorts with laced up sides fit tightly around her hips and thigh high boots with impressive 6" heels added to the black woman's already imposing height. Her hair was in a tight bun on top of her head and her face was done up in dark reds and purples to bring out every inch of the Dominatrix she looked born to be. The large black woman's eyes ran over Susan with the focus of a Marine Drill Instructor. She slapped the side of her leg with the crop that she held "Up" she commanded.
Susan rose from the floor and stood at attention while 12 entered the room. 12 was in a costume too, but it was a bastardized Russian military uniform. Like Susan, her jacket buttoned under her tits, pushing them up and out for display. Her sheer white blouse showed the dark red bra that was underneath and her tight tan skirt barely covered her ass. Susan saw the lace tops of nude stockings, and the same 4" leather heels on her feet. Her hair had been pulled tightly into a bun at the nape of her neck and on her head, she wore a wedge cap with an outdated hammer and sickle pin. In her hands she carried the leather cuffs that Susan had worn yesterday and without prompting, Susan extended her arms. Once the cuffs were secure, 12 pulled Susan's hands behind her back and clipped the them together. A black ball gag was pushed into her mouth and bound and gagged she was led from the room.
Susan was surprised to see the hall filled with women, all had on collars but each was dressed in some form of erotic costume, like a porno shoot on Halloween. 12 moved beside where 14 stood to the left of her doorway. She was wearing a red silk cheongsam dress, the high collar set off the soft lines of her jaw and the slit in the side showed the red stockings she wore underneath. Susan swept the hall and recognized Veronica standing in front of a door at the far end. She was wearing a slutty business suit with black stockings and heels. A red ball gag filled her mouth and her hands were also secured behind her back. Standing beside her was Number 8, the dusky middle eastern woman was done up like a Harem slave with flowing silk leggings and a crop top jacket. A sheer veil covered her face, fastened to her raven black hair with silver chains.
At the other end of the hall, Susan recognized 22. The young girl was dressed in a school girl costume, her red lace bra peeking out from the white cotton shirt tied under her small firm tits. Her tight stomach and thin waist were accented by the plaid skirt she wore and knee-high white stockings flowed down to the shiny black schoolgirl type heels on her feet. A white ball gag filled her mouth, but when she saw Susan looking at her, she winked before she turned to look to her front. There were apparently 2 other trainees here Susan noticed, each was flanked by a woman dressed in the dominatrix corset and boots that 10 wore, and two assistant trainers in their own costumes.
Susan was doing the math in her head when the door to the dungeon room swung open and Mercy strode in. All women stiffened to attention, some after the hasty application of their Mistresses crop sparking them into movement. Mercy was wearing a black pant suit with a dark green silk shirt. Her long red hair flowed down her back in a cascade of ringlets and emeralds sparkled at her ears and throat. Beside her was another woman, who looked like an Emma Frost cosplay done right. Her long blonde hair was loose around her shoulders where a white fur trimmed cape was fastened. A tight white leather bustier and even tighter leather pants made Susan cringe, and the knee-high platform leather boots looked impossible to do anything but stand in. A white collar around her throat held a tag with the number 2 embossed on it, and she carried a white leather crop in her hand like a scepter.
Mercy and Number 2 started down the hall, stopping at each group of women like a commander inspecting their troops. As she stood in front of 22, Susan heard Mercy speaking to the girl's dom. A similarly short woman wearing a red corset. "Number 5, I understand that your charge has finally shown some promise" Mercy commented, reaching out to stroke 22's cheek.
"Yes, Mistress One. The girl is still terrified of men, but shows great talent where women are concerned." 5 replied in what sounded like a Boston accent.
Mercy continued stroking 22's cheek and jaw, sliding her fingers down her throat into her cleavage. Susan heard 22 moan behind her gag at the attention. "Perhaps I will test her myself, just to make sure."
"Yes, Mistress One. She will be available at your convenience." 5 replied with a hint of pride in her voice.
Mercy continued down the hall, her eyes missing nothing. She stopped at a woman Susan had not yet met. The woman appeared to be in her early 30's and was dressed in a tennis skirt and white sports bra. Her eyes were red from crying and she whimpered around the ball gag in her mouth. Ironically, it was a tennis ball that stretched her jaws uncomfortably wide, and she tottered on the white platform heels she was wearing. Mercy looked her over, grunting in contempt at the woman's display of terror. She turned to where Number 2 stood respectfully behind her. "Prepare this one for tonight, our guest will appreciate the irony." Number 2 nodded and they moved on, ignoring the whimpers behind them that were sharply cut off with the sound of leather striking flesh.
Mercy moved to stand in front of Susan, her eyes flicking over her costume, hair and make up. "Much improved 10." She said. "I would have never imagined that this woman was the same one who gave you so much trouble at the start."
"Thank you Mistress One." 10 replied. "There is still much to do, but she does show promise."
Mercy nodded. "I agree, her last performance was marginal at best. It is only fortunate that her client was such a doddering fool that he would have believed anything." The woman reached out to glide a scarlet painted fingernail along Susan's chin. "Her next client will not be as easy, is she ready or does she need further motivation?" Mercy glanced down to where Veronica stood at the end of the hall.
