Chapter 3

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.

“She is ready Mistress, I guarantee it.” 10 said with confidence, 12 and 14 nodded in concurrence.

“Very well, I will accept your recommendation.” Mercy replied, then turned to Number 2. “This one, and number 22 for tonight as well. No costume though, elegance I think.” Number 2 nodded and they moved on down the hall. 10 minutes later the two women exited through the far door and a collective sigh of relief was heard from all of the Dom’s and trainers. 10 turned to Susan “Your performance tonight will determine if you live or die.” She said in a no-nonsense tone. Susan nodded, aware of what the consequences would be for both her and Veronica should she fail to satisfy Mercy. 14 opened the door to her cell and removed the cuffs and ball gag. “We will return shortly with your outfit for tonight. I suggest you take this time to review what you have learned and practice your skills. You will need all of them tonight.”

The next few hours were a flurry of preparation in which Susan felt like a contestant being groomed for her first beauty pageant. 12 arrived with the shoes that she was to wear that night and under her eagle eye and scathing tongue Susan paraded herself up and down the hall. It was amusing since the other 2 women were also being prepped by their handlers and sometimes heated arguments erupted over whose pupil had the right of way. After 12 was satisfied that Susan would not fall on her face, she was hurried to the shower where she quickly bathed and shampooed.

As she toweled off in her cell, 14 arrived with her mobile spa kit and guided Susan in the application of her makeup. In a moment of mischief, Susan deliberately messed up that stupid eyeliner swoosh thing and she saw 14 clench her hands and huff in frustration. Susan smiled as she fixed the mistake and Asian woman muttered something under her breath in an foreign dialect.

“What was that?” Susan asked as she brushed the powder over her cheeks.

“I was asking my ancestors to forgive me for all that I put my mother through before she died.” 14 said with a frustrated gasp, and then the two women broke down in a fit of giggling. Whether it was the stress, or the absurdity of the situation, for a second all of the animosity was gone. Susan felt like she was in a bedroom getting ready for a date, instead of in a prison preparing to be violated. She glanced at where 14 stood, packing up the makeup kit. At that moment it was easy to see that this woman once had been just like her, scared and alone maybe in this very room. She could hate Luthor and Mercy, but 14, 12 and even 10 were becoming like the big sisters she never had. Turning her from an awkward angst-ridden teenager into a woman.

Susan handed 14 the brush “Thank you for what you have done for me.” She said, honestly. “It must have been hard for you here, adapting in order to survive. If it wasn’t for you, I would probably be dead by now.”

14 looked at her then quickly moved forward to embrace her in a sisterly hug. “Please don’t fail, I am beginning to like you. I wish we could learn to be friends.” The small Asian girl stepped back, wiping a tear from her cheek. “It is so hard here, everyone is jockeying for position, waiting for you make a mistake.” She looked around the small room. “I spent several months in a cell like this until I earned a move up to the trainer’s dormitory. I hope you can make it sooner so we can spend some time together outside of your lessons.” At that, 14 wheeled the cart out and 10 stepped into the room. She tossed a package onto the bed and stepped forward to inspect 14’s work. She grunted in approval the stepped back, crossing her arms and locking Susan in with her gaze.

“Tonight will be different for you. There will be many men at the event, very important men whom Mr. Luthor has invited either to curry favor or offer reward. You will be part of that reward.” Susan flinched inwardly. The prospect of being handed off like a biscuit to a well-behaved dog revolted her.

“Many of these men are as I have warned you. Egotistical, self-centered boors who think that they deserve us and we hunger for them. It is your job to convince them that they are right. Use what you have learned in the bedroom about what it should feel like, and convince them that this is what they are achieving.”

Susan nodded. It wasn’t the first time that she had needed to pretend that a man was doing something right regardless of his actual performance.

“Mistress One will be there, as will I. You are of interest to Mr. Luthor so that will give you some protection, but understand that we are all tools and tools are discarded after they are of no more use. Do whatever you can to remain useful.”

Susan nodded again and 10 gestured to the package. “Your outfit, but do not put it on yet. Your meal will be delivered soon and the last thing you want is a stain on your stockings.” With that 10 turned and left, locking the door behind her.

Susan took a shuddering breath. She could do this she said to herself as she clenched and unclenched her hands. She went through a few calming exercises and soon heard the door open again. 14 arrived with a tray full of the most delicious looking food Susan could ever remember seeing. A plate with roast chicken, potatoes, steaming vegetables, even a small chocolate brownie. Susan sat eagerly on the bed as 14 placed the tray on her lap.

“You will not get an opportunity to eat at the event, so you must fortify yourself now.” The Asian woman said. She gestured to a small pill in a paper cup. “This will reduce the effects of alcohol for several hours. Many of the men will expect you to drink with them, but you must keep your head.” Susan nodded and 14 stepped back to the door. “You have about an hour, be ready”

An hour later and Susan stood in her room as the door swung open. Her hair had been curled into an elegant side swept style, held in place with sparkling jewelled combs. She wore a black cocktail dress that pinned on one shoulder with a glittering broach that matched the dangling earrings, necklace and bracelet she had found in her package. Black stockings were held up by a garter belt under her dress and a lacy push up bra lifted her tits nicely. Her black and red heels completed the outfit and she had admired herself in the mirror several times as she adjusted and tweaked her look. 10 nodded with approval, still wearing the dominatrix outfit she had worn earlier. 14 was likewise wearing her red silk cheongsam but 12 had changed into a dark blue cocktail dress that complimented her hair and eyes perfectly.

The three women led Susan down the hall toward the Hotel Room, then through the door on the other side. They entered an elevator and went up what felt like several floors until the doors opened again. 10 stepped out, gathering Susan by the arm and pulling her along like a child as Susan gawked at her surroundings. She was in what looked like a library, the walls filled with books and chairs or sofa’s scattered around the room. The air was filled with the scent of rich leather and furniture polish and the polished hardwood resounded with the sound of their high heels. 10 pulled her through another door into what could only be described as a ballroom. A high ceiling was filled with a huge chandelier and a band was tuning up in the corner. Women in French Maid costumes bustled about and Susan recognized some of them as the handlers of other women she had seen during the inspection earlier.

10 hustled Susan over to a wall and she saw that the other women were already there, being fussed over by their own handlers. Sheilah stood there, wearing a pink gown reminiscent of a prom dress. There were strappy silver heels on her feet and her hair was up in a styled pony tail. The other woman was there too, in a pale blue gown that flowed to the floor and her long blonde hair was braided and pulled over one shoulder making her look like a character in a Disney movie. Susan took her place in line beside Sheilah and the girl nudged her elbow in greeting.

It wasn’t long before the guests started to arrive, led by Mercy who was stunning in a green silk gown that flowed like water as she strode through the room. Number 2 was behind her, still wearing her Ice Queen outfit and looking like a trained attack dog following her master. 10 and the two other head trainers had taken places around the room, looking like bouncers in their corsets, thigh high boots and stern expressions. Each carried a crop and had a whip coiled at their side.

Susan ran a cop’s eye over the men who followed Mercy into the room. There were 5 of them, one looked middle eastern, two were Asian, one was blonde with Aryan features and the last was a tall black man. The various women flocked around the men, offering drinks and laughing at comments. Susan saw 14 grasp the arm of the large black man, almost childlike beside him despite her heels. 12 was making calf eyes at the chiseled blond man who was ignoring her as he scanned the room, his drink untouched. “That one is dangerous” Susan thought.

“Our latest selection Sheikh” Susan heard Mercy say and she quickly snapped her eyes back to the front. Mercy was walking arm in arm with the Middle Eastern man as they approached where the 3 women stood. Mercy led him along the line and Susan heard him comment;

“Too young, I would break her.” He said as he passed by Sheilah.

“Not bad, but too worn out.” He said of the other woman, reaching out to cup the other woman’s breast through the silken material of her gown.

“Now this one, this one interests me.” He said as he stood in front of Susan. The man was dressed in a well tailored suit jacket and slacks with a black silk shirt underneath. He had the distinguished look of a high-level businessman, but his eyes were cold and reptilian as they slid up and down Susan’s body.

“I will take her now, have her brought to me in the library.” He said with the indifferent tone of ordering a drink, and turned to head toward the door Susan had exited from earlier. Mercy nodded and one of the maids took Susan by the hand and led her along toward the door. As she entered, she saw the man reclining on one of the sofas. His pants were open and he was stroking his already erect cock. Susan moved toward him, practicing the effortless but seductive glide that 12 had spent hours teaching her. She stood before him, hand on hip, chin up, thrusting her chest forward just as she had practised in the mirror.

“You asked for me, sir?” She said, batting her eyes at him.

He stood up, grabbed her by the shoulder and threw her onto the sofa. “Shut up, woman. Your mouth is not for speaking.”

Susan gasped as she slammed into the back of the sofa then felt him tugging at her dress, pulling it up over her hips. Her lacy G-string was roughly pulled aside and with no warning he shoved himself into her hard.

She yelped in pain, she was bone dry and this monster was already pulling out to drive into her again. She struggled against the hand that pinned her to the sofa and received a sharp slap to the face for her efforts.

“Stay still whore!” the man growled as he savaged her helpless pussy.

Susan moaned, she hoped it sounded like pleasure but she was in agony. Her pussy was burning as his cock rammed in and out like sandpaper. She bit her lip and dug her fingernails into the leather of the sofa as the pain washed over her. She couldn’t take anymore, she had to free herself before this madman killed her. She was just about to try to roll off when a familiar voice sounded behind her.

“Mistress feels that a one such as yourself deserves more than just one woman. She sent me in so that you may teach me how to properly serve a real man.” Sheilah said in a shy voice, and Susan felt her small hand slide over her bare ass.