Sloan had had baths before. Once a month, the children at the orphanage were gathered and took turns bathing in a round wooden tub. With so many children, the water did not stay clean for long, and it was debatable how clean most of them got. She had never thought anything of it until Marie gave her a real bath.

The tub was as large as four of the orphanage tubs, made of some dark sweet-smelling wood and filled with water that was hot and clean. Sloan sank into the heat with a profound sigh and felt that, no matter what bad things life sent her way, they would be worth it for this one perfect moment. Marie handed over cloth and soap and, after a confused exchange, explained what to do with them. Marie herself scrubbed Sloan's hair, which had reached nearly neck length, the longest it had ever been, since Grelod had insisted on keeping all the children's hair short to combat fleas.

Once the bathing was done, Marie had Sloan lift an arm, then applied some cold cream to her armpits. A moment later Sloan yelped as Marie yanked and her pit hair was ripped out. It was with much more consternation that Sloan lifted the other arm, and the pain seemed worse thanks to the anticipation. Once that was done, Marie bade her lay on a low table. Sloan was confused by this until she felt the cold sensation of the cream on her pubic mound. She looked down her body with a quiver of fear.

"No, you woul..." Her words were interrupted by her own screech as Marie ripped out the first batch of hair. Sloan ground her teeth, trying to quell her cries, as the merciless Marie continued, taking the hair from her front, from between her legs, on to her backside, and even in her butt crack. Sloan bit back sobs when the ordeal finally seemed over.

It wasn't, of course. Once done with the tender pubic region, Marie moved on to the legs. Whether it was because the legs were less sensitive or because she was starting to become numb to the pain, it felt less painful, and Sloan was able to keep from yowling.

Once the legs were done, Marie stowed the jar of cream and helped Sloan sit up while she said, "I know that's a lot to go through the first time. You will get used to it. Believe me, eventually you will only feel truly clean when your hair has been removed."

Sloan only managed a grunt in response but nearly forgot her pain when Marie handed her the clothes. First, red silk panties that were so tiny Sloan wondered how they would fit (answer - barely, and they didn't cover her ass so much as get swallowed by it) then a dress of red silk inlaid with silver threads that formed intricate flowers. Its beauty took her breath away, and it was so soft and light that it felt almost like wearing nothing. It was the most exquisite piece of clothing she had ever seen. It was a bit short, coming down to her mid thigh, and it dropped low enough down her chest to show ample cleavage. Not a dress to bend over while wearing, she told herself. A pair of black heels completed the initial outfit.

Between the thong riding up her ass and the low cut of the dress that did little to support her breasts, which therefore jiggled at every step in the painful shoes, Sloan became quickly disenchanted with the outfit, regardless of its beauty. She spent the next couple of hours learning how to walk, swaying her hips (but not too much!) with each step. Marie was a patient teacher, but by the end Sloan's feet ached and her ass felt chafed raw from the thong.

At last Marie said, "That is enough. You will get better. When you are off duty, you may wear house slippers, but you are expected to wear the heels at all times when you are on duty. Do you understand?"

Sloan nodded, then realized she didn't really understand. "No, wait. When I am on duty? What am I going to be doing?"

Marie looked surprised. "You don't know where you are?" Sloan shook her head. "Ah." Marie pursed her lips. "Well. You are at the Vixen." She stopped, as if that explained everything. Sloan's blank expression told her it didn't. "It's a brothel, girl. You know what that is, yes?"

Sloan nodded even as her shock crested, leaving a numb sensation that took hold of her limbs. A rush of heavy wind seemed to blow through her head, cutting off sound. I don't...this isn't...

Words failed her, even as the wind subsided and she could once again hear Marie, who had continued to speak. "...service the clients in whatever way they wish. Do not fear, there are limits. Since you are not a slave, you do not have to do the more...degrading things. If, for instance, a client wishes to piss in your mouth or something equally unacceptable, just bring him to me and I'll set him up with one of the slaves. Likewise, you do not have to accept whippings. You can choose to do those things if you want, and you will be paid more for them than simple sex acts, but they are strictly optional. If anything is questionable, just ask and I'll let you know.

"The important thing is that your job is to make your clients happy. You will smile and be charming. Let me see your smile. No, give me a real smile. No, child. Think of the happiest memory you have. There, that's better. The key to this job is to make your clients feel like you enjoy being with them. Make them feel like they're the most important, impressive, and amazing person you have ever met, and that when you're with them, this is more than a job, it's a personal pleasure."

Sloan nodded as if she understood, but her mind was fighting panic. I can't do this I can't do this Ican'tIcan'tIcan't...

"Don't worry, you can do this. It's not too hard, once you get the hang of it, and sometimes it might even be enjoyable. We'll start you off slow. We'll keep you well lubricated so it won't hurt too much. Just remember, make them happy. That's for tomorrow, though. For now, drink this - it will keep you from getting pregnant, you need to drink some every week. Good. And now, it's time to eat. Ready?" The question seemed to spark Sloan's stomach, which grumbled in response. Marie laughed and stood. "Here are your house slippers. Let's go eat."

Sloan took off the heels and slid on the slippers with relief. It felt strange to feel the floor flat under her feet again, and it took a couple of steps to re-acclimate herself to walking. She carried the heels with her as Marie led the way to a dining hall. Two dozen women, all dressed in outfits similar to Sloan's, sat at tables talking and eating. The smell of food permeated the air, and Sloan just stopped herself from panting. Never in her life had she smelled anything so good! Marie led the way to a table and they sat. Slaves approached and put glasses (made of real glass! Sloan gaped at the finery), plates, cutlery, and napkins in front of them. Sloan had no idea what to do with most of the items, so she watched Marie and copied her movements. She placed the napkin on her lap. When wine was served in the glass (real glass!), she lifted it with two fingers. She took a gulp of the red liquid before noticing that Marie had taken only a sip. Sloan quickly swallowed the mouthful (it was fruity but not sweet, which seemed odd to her palette. Not altogether bad, though) then followed it with a sip.

Then the food came and Sloan nearly lost all self control. Every food that appeared on her plate was the best thing she had ever eaten. She had already grabbed some sort of crisp vegetable in her fingers before remembering and looking at Marie, who was using what Sloan recognized as a fork. Sloan dropped the veggie and scanned her own implements, then picked up a fork and tried to follow Marie's lead. It was frustrating - she wanted to gobble her food in giant mouthfuls but the fork limited the amount she could eat in one bite. When she had eaten her fill of the most amazing meal ever and two glasses (real glass!) of wine (Marie had told the slaves to bring her water after the second glass (real glass!)), Sloan felt the happiest and most content she ever had. Her head spun in pleasant circles as Marie led the way to a dormitory. Sloan was used to communal living, of course, but even here, the differences from the orphanage were huge. Each bed was separated from the others by wooden partitions (imported from the Summerset Isles, according to Marie) and each person had their own bed and wardrobe. The wardrobe held several colored variations of the outfit Sloan currently wore, while panties and more casual "off day" outfits were folded in the drawer below. It was a spacious paradise. After Marie left, Sloan lay on the soft bed and smiled at the ceiling. If these were the benefits of being a whore, they seemed worth the price.