Quality Control

The Slaver smirked and patted the monitoring operation on the shoulder “Military girls are always easy to train, used to obeying orders and always starving for sex.” He smiled at the image of Joanna on the wall.

“Have that one washed and sent to my quarters” he smiled “let’s see if she’s trained yet”

Joanna was lifted up and into another room by the robotic arms, in here were dozens of other women being washed, brushed and made up by a whole array of robotic devices. Joanna felt stunned as she was lifted into the machine and the washing begun. The water was too hot, the brushes rough and uncomfortable, but somehow, like the spanking, Joanna found herself enjoying it.

Finally her wet body was lifted free and blow dried, her hair brushed back and she was lifted further, her unresisting form dressed in a thin, short, backless silk strap dress, it’s neckline so low cut that she’d almost be popping out of it if she walked, it’s skirt so short that sitting down would flash the room.

A moment later a pair of heels were put on her feet, locked on by small locks. The ends, though Joanna didn’t know it had been specially blunted in case she hadn’t quiet been broken.

Finally Joanna was lifted up before a mirror. She groaned to look at herself, and then the robot arms applied make up. Before Joanna had looked like a super model. Now she looked like some submissive goddess of love.

A hatch opened and Joanna was dropped onto a soft fur rug. The Slaver sat in a chair facing her. “Good evening Joanna.” He smiled at her “how do you feel?”