The first sight of the GEBURAH's hold was never what a new candidate expected. The thick, soft carpeting was a rich, vivid red, as were the velvet draperies that covered the walls. Three low stools, their five-sided surfaces smooth, hard, bare wood, were arranged in the center of the room. Chloe's chair, high-backed but armless, was positioned so as to face them. And of course, there were Melisende and Connell. They were the personal property of Master Gideon, who was even now at the helm of the boat. Both were tall and densely muscled, clad only in skimpy red silk loincloths. Also, the pentagonal brand on the shoulder that was Gideon's sigil.

"Remove all of your clothes and seat yourself on one of the stools." This was the first time she'd heard Chloe's 'command voice'. It had the same effect it always did. Lori shed her faded sweatshirt and tattered jeans. Chloe narrowed her eyes somewhat when she noticed the multitude of narrow white scars that had been concealed by the woman's clothing. Clumsy, ill-placed things, with no artistry to them. Chloe loathed amateur work.

It was then that Chloe heard another set of footsteps making their way aboard. She glanced away from Lori to see Dennis stepping into the room.

"Remove all of your clothes and seat yourself on one of the stools." He stripped awkwardly. Rather endearing, really, Chloe mused. No scars on this one, either. Just lots of smooth, pale skin. She had to stop herself from licking her lips.

Lori and Dennis had obediently seated themselves on the hard stools. The unusual shape of the seats forced them into an uncomfortable splay-legged pose. Lori sat straight and still, eyes cast demurely downwards, while Dennis fidgeted uneasily, casting darting looks around the cabin. He was trying not to stare at Lori.

With the room's one clock behind them, Dennis and Lori had no way of knowing how much time was passing. Chloe knew that in their present disoriented state, a few minutes would seem like forever. She pulled a book (a somewhat controversial new translation of Herotodus) from a shelf hidden behind the draperies, and began to read. Connell and Melisende stood silently, impassively, as they'd been trained to do. After a silent eternity came the sound of running footsteps up the gangplank, and Mason, his too-pretty face a little flushed, stumbled into the room. Chloe barely looked up.

"Remove all of your clothes and seat yourself on one of the stools." Mason peeled off his clothes slowly, eroticizing every slow movement. He was a vain little thing, to be sure, but he did have a body to be proud of, sleek, tanned, and lithe. Chloe wasn't surprised to see that he sported a large gauge Prince Albert, but Dennis' eyes nearly dropped out of their sockets at the sight of the thick steel ring through the head of the other man's penis. Mason even managed to be graceful lowering himself onto the squat little stool.

And then they waited. Chloe feigned complete absorbtion in her book, surreptitiously obesrving the reactions of her three anxious charges. Lori sat unmoving and outwardly calm, but to Chloe's practiced eye she might as well have been biting her nails (which were, in fact, somewhat ragged) and shaking like a leaf. Dennis squirmed on his stool and couldn't seem to find a safe place to rest his gaze, his glance darting rapidly around the room. Mason smirked, an expression that probably betrayed more of his anxiety than he realized. By the end of the promised hour, all three were visibly sweating.

Finally, the appointed time arrived. When she heard the revving of the GEBURAH's engine, she set down the Herotodus and focused her undivided attention on Mason, Dennis, and Lori.

"You're the property of the Academy now." She stood, smoothing out her conservative woolen skirt "Your training begins as of this moment."

From another drape-hidden shelf, she plucked a whippy little cane, again noting her new student's reactions. Mason relaxed, and his nervous smirk smoothed into a peaceful smile. He was also starting to get an erection, the little slut. She chuckled inwardly. A less practiced observer might have not seen any change in Lori's stony expression, but Chloe noted the contratction of her pupils and the slight stiffening of her shoulders. Further evidence of bad handling. Dennis merely looked scared.

"Ooo, me first," Mason giggled. Oh, this was too easy!

Chloe slapped him across the face. The resulting crack was satisfyingly loud, but she knew from experience it wouldn't do more that sting a little. "Lesson one. Speak only when it is appropriate." She smacked the cane against her hand, for emphasis. "If, like Mason here, you are too ill-mannered to know when speech is innapropriate, speak only when spoken to." She paced the length of the little room. "Should you have occasion to address me, you will address me as 'Headmistress Chloe'. The other instructors will inform you of their preferred forms of address if you should have the opportunity to work with them." She turned to Melisende. "Melisende, kindly ask Master Gideon if he wishes to join us."

"Yes, Headmistress Chloe." She was gone almost before Chloe had finished speaking.

"Melisende, and Connell here, are Seniors. Examples of what you may someday become." She allowed herself a slight smile. "If you apply yourselves."

At that moment Gideon entered the room, and Chloe stepped back against the wall, relinquishing her students' attention. As usual, he didn't just walk into the room, but took possesion of it, stalking like a panther.

"I am Master Gideon. Chloe tells me the three of you will be joining us at the Academy." He had a lush, throaty voice that made every word an invitation, and a challenge. "I do hope that you will all be eager pupils. And as for you...." He grabbed Mason by the hair. "You're my problem now. The first thing you're going to do is apologize to Headmistress Chloe for speaking out of turn."

Mason squeaked, a charmingly genuine sound. "Y-yes Master Gideon. I'm sorry, Headmistress Chloe." Gideon tightened his grip. "I'm sorry for speaking out of turn, Headmistress Chloe."