An Orderly Life
Note for the reader
This story is complete fiction and fantasy. It is not based on any actual people, places or situations. As a fantasy, some societal rules and norms may be bent or ignored. This story contains many behaviors that lack explicit consent that in the real world be tantamount to extortion, blackmail or even slavery or rape, depending on the definition used. This is acceptable in fiction, especially in fantasy, where going beyond the bounds what would otherwise being acceptable is part of the exploration. In fiction, this is safe, healthy, and titillating. The author does NOT believe such things would be acceptable in the real world. In the real world, consent and boundaries are necessary for safe and mutually beneficial interactions. Additionally, some philosophies stated in this story are also highly controversial or just plain prejudiced. These are also literary devices, and should be taken as such. This story is not meant to be a blueprint for how the world should be. This story is meant for entertainment purposes only! There may also be some activities described in this story that are ambiguous (or are actually forbidden) morally and/or legally. If it is against the law where you live to read or possess stories that themselves describe illegal behavior, you should probably not read on. Nothing in this story actually happened, no real people were harmed in the writing of it. Finally, this story touches on and may describe sensitive topics, such as abuse. If reading about such things will cause you distress, you may wish to rethink your decision to read this story. Such elements in this story are necessary for the plot and are not gratuitous, you have been warned!
Chapter 1
Daniel was bored. REALLY bored. It was a Sunday, and like most Sundays he was sitting in his apartment staring at the dull cream walls, softly lit by the glare of the TV. Nothing of interest was on, no surprise, which is why Daniel was studying the features of the bland walls as even that was more interesting than the crap on TV. He looked around his bedroom, it was simple, austere even, consisting of only a bed, bedside table with a lamp, his phone and the other crap he kept in his pockets on it, and a chest of drawers with a flat screen TV on top.
He unlocked his phone, thinking maybe to browse some porn or something for at least some entertainment. But the idea simply made him feel worse. He ended up doing that too many nights, and while it might feel good while he was jerking off, it was just as empty as his bedroom, and ultimately just made him feel worse later realizing how pitiful his life had gotten.
Daniel had had girlfriends before, even one that lasted almost two years. But nothing that ever seemed like it was going to be permanent, he just could not imagine being tied down to a single person, with a legal contract binding him like shackles. He liked to look around, and even, if the mood took him, explore his options. It's that, which ended his last substantial relationship. Well, and the steady pressure by his girlfriend that he should seek God in his life more, or something like that. He hit the eject button as soon as she told him she had made an appointment for them to talk to her pastor.
High School and college were also great times for Daniel. He had not just had girlfriends, but also experimented with other guys. He didn't regret those times, and even thought back with fondness of some of his boys' nights out that turned into a guy's night in. It took Daniel almost 6 years to admit he was bisexual, which had made for very confusing teenage years, full of guilt mixed with desire. It took Molly, his girlfriend when he was 19, to finally talk it out and reassure him it was OK, and he should be who he was, not what everyone else expected of him. There were tears that night, and it was tied to one of the most sensual memories he had.
Daniel glanced over at the bedside table and the stuff he had dumped from his pocket after returning home from the store earlier. Wallet, keys, a jumble of coins, and a piece of paper, folded neatly in quarters. He had looked at several times in the last 3 hours. He was not sure why he picked it up, it was just not his style. But he was desperately bored, and truth be told, a little depressed at how stale his life had gotten. The piece of paper was, in fact, a flier. It was for a party tonight, starting at 9:30pm ... about an hour from now. Daniel was not a big party goer, feeling generally awkward and shy in these kinds of social situations. The music was almost always terrible, being the club-electronica music where, if it had lyrics, they were designed to be screamed by a drunk crowd. And, being 37, he was usually significantly older than the party crowd, and felt distinctly out of place.
Normally, he would have left the flier where it was, but this one piqued his interest. It had standards. Women were to wear something in silk or satin, and men would be required to perform a reading from a great literary work before gaining entry, if not already a member or accompanied by one. Daniel had never heard of such a thing, but he was pretty certain most club going girls he had ever seen didn't even OWN any silk or satin, and he would be surprised if half the men at most clubs could read at all. This was decidedly highbrow. There was a cover for men to get in, of course, but it was only $20, ladies attended free. But that was the same most everywhere. He had long since given up on the inequity of it all.
Deciding that, hell, even if he didn't like it it was only $20 and anything was better than mentally calculating the square footage of his bedroom out of sheer boredom, Daniel got up and headed to the shower. 25 minutes later, clean, deodorized, shaved and hair brushed, Daniel pulled on a dress shirt and pants (not knowing how much was too much for this party), and prepared to walk out the door. It was only a 15-minute ride to the place of the party, a private residence in a nicer part of town, but he wanted to scope the place out before going to the door. Besides, he was hungry. Stopping off at a local pizza joint on the way, Daniel arrived at the place of the party, 1875 Woodcroft Ln, right around 9:35. It was a large house, full brick, two stories, set in a row amongst other similar houses. This was the kind of street where bankers, executives and politicians lived. Decidedly several steps above Daniel's apartment.
Standing across the road watching party goers arrive and enter the venue, Daniel could see he was right about this party. The women attending were all dressed to the nines. Some went for flowing, draping looks, often with sheer material that, when they passed in front of the other houses on the block, the porch lights illuminated the shape of their bodies quite distinctly. Other ladies went for a tighter, form-fitting approach, leaving the location of their curves in no doubt, light or no. The men were generally all dressed similar to what he was wearing, upscale, but not so formal as a suit. Not a single person who stopped at 1875 Woodcroft Ln appeared drunk, or was shouting obnoxiously.
This is not to say that he did not see some oddities. He could have sworn several of the party goers were linked to each other by a collar and leash. He only caught glimpses of this, enough to make him doubt his own eyes, but after seeing four such connected pairs, he could not deny he had seen SOMETHING out of the ordinary. But he figured, each to their own, and he was not going to be deterred from doing SOMETHING on a Sunday night, especially something that didn't involve terrible music and wasted teens because of some people's lifestyle choices. Hell, he was even more than a little curious. Daniel shook his shoulders, and made his way across the street to the door.
At the door, Daniel saw what he had been expecting, two large African American men, in tight t-shirts with their arms crossed standing either side of the door. Obviously bouncers. They both eyed Daniel as he approached, but seeing how he was dressed, made no move to stop him. Once inside the door, he was met by a stern woman looking in her 60s, who also inspected Daniel. "I don't recognize you, you are not a member" she said, "are you accompanied by one?" Despite her stern appearance, her manner was pleasant, and merely inquisitive. "No, I saw a flier and decided to come check it out" Daniel replied. "I see. You know there is a cost? And you must prove yourself worthy to attend?" she asked. Daniel paused a little at the insistence on worthiness, wondering what made someone worthy, but he assumed it was the dramatic reading mentioned the flier. "I do" Daniel said, reaching for his wallet and handing the lady $20. "Very well, go through the door over there on your right, you will prove yourself in there, and if found acceptable, the rules of our gathering will be explained to you there. The $20 is not refundable."
Daniel nodded, and went through the door to the right of the desk the old lady was seated out. The room inside was set up like a miniature auditorium, though it was only the size of a modest living room. A glass podium had been set up at the front of the room, with lights illuminating it. The rest of the room was filled with comfortable chairs and couches, the lights were dimmed. Obviously he was to be the center of attention for this test. It struck him as highly odd, but this party was already strange before he even got here. Daniel stepped up to the podium, the lights now shining directly at him making him blind to the rest of the room. He was confused at what to do next, as he heard the shuffling sounds of people entering and taking their seats coming from the room so he stood at the podium and waited.
A blonde man, Daniel estimated to be around his own age, dressed in a full suit approached him from the far side of the room. He was a handsome man, about 6' tall, clean shaven and for all the world looked like a maître d'. "You are new here, yes?" he asked. He had the accent of a cliche English buttler. Daniel almost laughed out loud, but instead merely nodded. "To gain admittance to this gathering, as a man, you are required to have a female sponsor. Those in the audience in front of you are members willing to sponsor newcomers. If none choose you, you will be asked to leave. You may deposit your clothing in the closet behind you" he continued.
Daniel balked. His clothing? What? What kind of party WAS this? He stood frozen for several seconds before his mind started working normally again. "My what?" he blurted out in a rush. The maître d' replied without skipping a beat, "Your clothing, sir. The reading must be performed skyclad. In other words, naked. We have provided a closet to deposit your clothes." Daniel stared at him as his mind stated to churn once again. Suddenly the people he had seen entering the party previously made sense. This not only wasn't just your run of the mill party, but this must be some kind of sex club, and likely a kinky one at that if the collars and chains were any indication. Still not fully recovered from the shock of the request, Daniel responded hotly to the tall blonde man, "Are you mad? You want me to get naked? in front of strangers? And ... uhhh .. read?"
The maître d' looking man looked on Daniel in pity. "Please, restrain your voice. I understand your concern. This is a very exclusive club, we don't allow just anyone in, which is why we require evaluation and sponsors. The ladies who are willing to become sponsors are putting much of their own reputation within the club on the line when accepting a new applicant. They are judged by how well they choose potential new members for our club. Consequently, they wish to evaluate you fully, both your body and your mind." He explained. "Look, this was supposed to just be a party! I wasn't trying to join some club, I was just looking for something to do on a Sunday night!" Daniel said in a constrained whisper. The other man looked at him and said, with a casual shrug "Well, you are here now and you have only two choices. You can either turn and leave, and not return, or you can deposit your clothing in the closet behind you and read for your audience." The man handed him a small book, "From page 47" he said as he walked away.
Daniel stared at the man as he retreated back towards the other side of the room. He was still standing in the spotlight, and he could hear a low murmur coming from the assembled chairs in the room, despite not being able to see any of the occupants. This was not how he had expected his Sunday night to turn out, and his mind was a whirl. He looked back at the door he had come through, and sighed. Nothing waited for him out that door. His bland apartment, sterile life and a routine that, while stable, made him almost weep in its mundanity. The other choice before him was, at least, interesting. Besides, he had already paid his $20, and it's not like he was particularly prudish in general. Daniel had never been naked in front of a crowd before, but the thought, while terrifying, was also thrilling. Knowing that what he estimated to be a dozen and a half ladies were waiting to see him disrobe sent a quick but not unpleasant shudder down his body. What's the worst that could happen? he thought, there are certainly worse things than having a room full of women waiting to see you naked, and it might lead to something more than another night with my right hand.
Daniel put the book the maître d' had given him on the podium, and turned his back to it. The closet at the front of the room was fairly well concealed, a small handle on the wall the only indicator the wall was actually a recessed door. Daniel opened it, paused a few seconds, and began unbuttoning his shirt. The murmuring in the room hushed almost immediately, as Daniel removed his shirt and hung it on the waiting hanger. He next removed his shoes and socks, storing them at the bottom of the cupboard before undoing his belt, the button, and fly of his pants. With a slight hesitation, he pushed them down, and pulled them off his legs, hanging them up next to his shirt. He looked over at the maître d' intently, who simply nodded, at which Daniel hooked his thumbs into his boxers, and drew them to the floor in a rush, tossing them into the closet and closing the door. The room was now utterly silent.
Daniel took three slow breaths at what he was about to do. He was not a vain man, he had always considered himself shockingly average. At 5'10, with a trim, but not overly muscular build, he did not cut an overly imposing figure. He took care to stay fit, but did not take it to bodybuilding lengths. His black hair was cut short and he was clean shaven with hazel eyes. He naturally only had a light covering of body hair, and he kept his pubic area and underarms trimmed to match. His penis, now flaccid, was circumcised and could grow up to 7.5" fully erect, with slightly more than average girth - a detail that until today, had only ever been known to himself and his partners. Properly steeled for the next few moments, Daniel turned and stepped up to the podium.
Daniel was blinded slightly by the lights in front of him, which prevented him from observing his audience, so he looked down at the book the maître d' had given him. It was The Memoirs of Fanny Hill. Daniel had not heard of it, but he could tell immediately it was old. Flicking to the inside cover, he saw the original printing was in 1749. VERY old. This was what he was to read, nude, to gain a sponsor, and see how far the rabbit hole went? Well, so be it. Daniel turned to page 47 and began to read in a clear, strong voice.
This girl could not be above eighteen: her face regular and sweet featured, her
shape exquisite; nor could I help envying her two ripe enchanting breasts,
finely plumped out in flesh, but withal so round, so firm, that they sustained
themselves, in scorn of any stay: then their nipples, pointing different ways,
marked their pleasing separation; beneath them lay the delicious tract of the
belly, which terminated in a parting of rift scarce discerning, that modesty
seemed to retire downward, and seek shelter between two plump fleshy thighs: the
curling hair that overspread its delightful front, clothed it with the richest
sable fur in the universe: in short, she was evidently a subject for the
painters to court her, sitting to them for a pattern female beauty, in all the
true pride and pomp of nakedness.
The young Italian (still in his shirt) stood gazing and transported at the sight
of beauties that might have fired a dying hermit; his eager eyes devoured her,
as she shifted attitudes at his discretion: neither were his hands excluded
their share of the high feast, but wandered, on the hunt of pleasure, over every
part and inch of her body, so qualified to afford the most exquisite sense of
it.
In the mean time time, one could not help observing the swell of his shirt
before, that bolstered out, and pointed out the condition of things behind the
curtain: but he soon removed it, by slipping his shirt over his head; and now,
as to nakedness, they had nothing to reproach one another.
The young gentleman, by Phoebe's guess, was about two and twenty; tall and well
limbed. His body was finely formed, and of a most vigorous make, square
shouldered, and broad chested: his face was not remarkable any way, but for a
nose inclining to the Roman, eyes large, black, and sparkling, and a ruddiness
in his cheeks that was the more a grace; for his complexion was of the brownest,
not of that dusky dun colour which excludes, the idea of freshness, but of that
clear, olive gloss, which glowing with life, dazzles perhaps less than fairness,
and yet pleases more, when it pleases at all. His hair being too short to tie
fell no lower than his neck, in short easy curls; and he had a few sprigs about
his paps, that garnished his chest in a style of strength and manliness. Then
his grand movement, which seemed to rise out of a thicket of curling hair, that
spread from the root all over his thighs and belly up to the navel, stood stiff
and upright, but of a size to frighten me, by sympathy for the small tender part
which was the object of its fury, and which now lay exposed to my fairest view;
for he had, immediately on stoppings off his shirt, gently pushed her down on
the couch, which stood conveniently to break her willing fall. Her thighs were
spread out to their utmost extention, and discovered between them the mark of
the sex, the red-centered cleft of flesh, whose lips vermillioning inwards,
expressed a small ruby line in sweet miniature, such as Guide's touch or
colouring: could never attain to the life or delicacy of.
Phoebe, at this, gave me a gentle jog, to prepare me for a whisper question:
"Whether I thought my little maiden-head was much less?" But my attention was
too much engrossed, too much inwrapped with all I saw, to be able to give her
any answer.
By this time the young gentelman had changed her posture from lying breadth to
length-wise on the coach: but her thighs were still spread, and the mark lay
fair for him, who now kneeling between them, displayed to us a side view of that
fierce erect machine of his, which threatened no less than splitting the tender
victim, who lay smiling at the uplifted stroke, nor seemed to decline it. He
looked upon his weapon himself with some pleasure, and guiding it with his hand
to the inviting; slit, drew aside the lips, and lodged it (after some thrusts,
which Polly seemed even to assist) about half way; but there it stuck, I suppose
from its growing thickness: he draws it again, and just wetting it with spittle,
re-enters, and with ease sheathed it now up to the hilt, at which Polly gave a
deep sigh, which was quite another tone than one of pain; he thrusts, she
heaves, at first gently, and in a regular cadence; but presently the transport
began to be too violent to observe any order or measure; their motions were too
rapid, their kisses too fierce' and fervent for nature to support such fury
long: both seemed to me out of themselves: their eyes darted fires: "Oh! oh! I
can't bear it. It is too much. I die. I am going," were Polly's expressions of
extasy: his joys were more silent: but soon broken murmurs, sighs heart-fetched,
and at length a dispatching thrust, as if he would have forced himself up her
body, and then the motionless languor of all his limbs, all shewed that the
die-away moment was come upon him; which she gave signs of joining with by, the
wild throwing of her hands about, closing her eyes, and giving a deep sob, in
which she seemed to expire in an agony of bliss.
"That will do" called a female voice from the audience. He could not see nor identify the speaker. Daniel was no longer flaccid at the end of his reading. Great literature indeed, he thought. He stood there and waited, not sure what would happen next. He was embarrassed at standing in front of a crowd of unknown women, naked as the day he was born, and hard as a steel bar, but he expected that, given the choice of reading material, this was the point. The murmuring in the room began to rise again, as the attendant women discussed his reading, and other attributes. He caught only occasional snatches of the various conversations being held, but it was enough to tell him that the audience were not being bashful about discussing him in frank and explicit terms.
Across the room, the maître d' once again approached him. "You did well," he said brightly. "Most applicants falter and stumble a few times, especially when dealing with not just the subject matter, but with the period cadence of the text." Daniel murmured a thanks, but was acutely aware at how average he looked next to the man next to him. "We are all supposed to be anonymous until you officially have a sponsor, but I've been a member of this club for 6 years now. I have a good sense of how these things go down. I'm Alvin." Daniel relaxed slightly at the encouragement of Alvin's words, "Uhh, Hi. I'm not used to introducing myself to new people while being stark naked ... I'm Daniel." "Well, sit tight Daniel, this won't take too long" Alvin said, and disappeared again, not to the other side of the room, but into the audience.
Daniel looked around, but there was no chair for him to sit in, and nobody had told him could dress again, which he was almost certain he was not supposed to do, so stood awkwardly for several minutes until Alvin returned to the stage. Alvin gestured Daniel to stand to the left of the podium, and stood behind it himself. "Four sisters have committed to sponsorship of this applicant. However, one sister claims the Privilege of Superiority. Does anyone here oppose this claim?" Alvin declared from the podium. At this, a rush of conversation broke out in the room, nothing audible, but it was obvious, even to Daniel, that this announcement had not been expected. After several minutes, Alvin spoke up again "Sisters, please, I know this is highly unusual, but we have protocols in place to deal with it. Once more, is there anyone who wishes to challenge the claimed privilege?" The room quietened immediately. After waiting several moments, Alvin spoke up again "the privilege stands."
Alvin turned to Daniel and spoke to him directly. "Daniel, you have auditioned for our club, in an attempt to acquire sponsorship by one of the Sisters in attendance, to which you have been successful. Before we can proceed, you must be informed of the rules of our club, what we expect of you, and the duties of your sponsor. You must accept these conditions, or leave immediately. Do you understand?" Alvin's sudden formality surprised Daniel. Although he had been gaining hints that this was not the kind of place one just came for a Sunday out, as Daniel had, and certainly not a simple dance club, it was beginning to dawn on him that this might be a real commitment. Daniel didn't answer Alvin immediately, but used the time to reflect on his situation.
Up until tonight, for quite some time, Daniel's life had been insanely mundane. This was the most interesting and certainly the most embarrassing thing he had done in several years. Though Alvin's warm response had helped him overcome that for the most part, and made the experience feel more liberating than embarrassing. But suddenly, his life had taken a dramatic about face and become possibly more exciting than he was prepared to handle, he felt like he had mental whiplash. Daniel knew he was tired of his routine existence, and finding himself standing naked and erect, in front of a group of unseen women was anything but routine. But this was so far removed from what he had expected of a random Sunday night, he was completely adrift. The prospect before him was enticing. He was afire with curiosity to see where it would lead, but he was not normally an impulsive person. Maybe that's the problem he thought, I think too much. He didn't quite know what was going on, but it made him feel alive, gave him an adrenaline rush he had not expected. "Daniel?" Alvin prompted. "I do." Daniel replied, before he let himself overthink the situation.
Alvin nodded. "Our club, more properly known as the Order of the Sacred Pearl, is a matriarchal society, where we believe that the patriarchy, and male dominated society has had it's chance, and not met with much success, so it is time to put ourselves under the rule of women for a change. Entry into the order is a solemn commitment and it will change your life, we believe for the better. If you enter the Order, you will be agreeing to never break our confidence outside of those who are also members. You will agree, in writing, to give the order power of attorney over your affairs and your finances to be used in the case of you violating the Order's rules. You will be brought into the order as a mentee under a sponsor. You will agree to follow any instructions or perform any task your sponsor, or her designees give you. Lacking any contrary instruction from your sponsor or her designees, you will follow any instructions or perform any task any female member of the Order gives you, respecting the hierarchy of the Order's members as will be made clear to you. Your sponsor, however will be taking certain responsibility for you too. It is her job to ensure you never come to any irreparable harm, and punish those who would attempt to do so. It is her job to train you how to act appropriately as a member of our Order. It is her job to direct the Order's resources in ways to make you successful in your life both inside and out of the Order, in such ways that benefit both you and the Order. It will also be her sole determination when you transition from mentee to full member of the Order. Your sponsor's reputation and standing within the Order will be affected by how well she instructs you and molds you into a proper Order member, though, obviously, not as much as your own. Do you understand and accept these conditions?"
Shit, Daniel thought. Shit shit shit shit shit. This was bigger than he had ever imagined. He listened to Alvin's speech, each sentence coming like a new hammer blow. Could they really do this? Could HE really do this? He had lived his life, since leaving high school as more or less his own man. To have to follow the instructions and perform ANY task of a person he's not even seen? Hell, to give them power of attorney? They could do ANYTHING in his name! They would own his life! The scope of this organization blew his mind. People live like this? Alvin, a man who seemed so suave and self assured, not to mention having all his natural gifts, HE lived by these rules? Daniel never believed organizations such as this really existed, they were just tropes in stories. His mind cast to the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, "You best believe in ghost stories Ms. Turner, you're in one!"
Daniel sat down on the floor, not even feeling the cold polished wood on his ass. His mind was reeling ... but why had Alvin's speech given him lustful chills? There was no denying it, he was hornier now even than he had been reading the smut at the podium. Was he going insane? Feeling excited at the thought of throwing his life into a maelstrom, and letting someone else decide where it would go. Why was he even considering it? Why hadn't he yelled "Hell no!", grabbed his clothes and stormed out already? He calmed down and tried to let his logical brain take over. Daniel looked around the room, this club, whoever they were, were well financed. The house he was in alone probably cost several million dollars, the kind of members of this order would be the upper echelons of society - politicians, socialites and the like. The kind of people whose reputations were more important than their own children. These were connections that could open doors he could not even dream of. And Alvin had spoken of them using the resources of this Order to benefit him even outside of this club. That was the hook, he knew, but with this much financial backing, there had to be something to it. All it would cost was everything. Though, he was pretty sure, his life would no longer be dull. Daniel's hearing started to return, as he returned his attention once again to Alvin, who was now squatting in front of him. "Daniel? Are you OK?"
Daniel nodded curtly, and slowly stood back up. He had made up his mind. "I understand." he said, "and agree." Alvin smiled warmly "Then welcome! I hope to someday call you brother." Alvin quickly returned his attention to the assembled sisters, speaking once again for the benefit of the room. "Now, Daniel, as I said before, you have passed your audience, and a sister has agreed to be your sponsor. More than one, in fact. This is, by itself, not unusual, though four is rare. Ordinarily when this happens, after accepting the terms of the order, the sisters who have agreed to sponsor you will come forth, introduce themselves, and you will be able to choose which sponsor you wish. However, tonight a sister of the first circle, one of the ruling council of the order, has not only agreed to sponsor you, but has invoked the Privilege of Superiority. This is a rarely invoked privilege, comes at some cost for the sister involved, and can only be claimed once per year. However, this means that her sponsorship offer supersedes all others, and as such, she will be your sponsor. Sister Siobhan, come forth and claim your new mentee."
Daniel stood, once again, in shock. A sister, which he presumed was the term used for female members of the Order, had invoked some special privilege for him? Something she could only invoke once a YEAR? A sister of the first circle, whatever that was? He did not understand it. He couldn't fathom why she would do such a thing. As he was contemplating this, the lights that were shining brightly on the podium began to dim so he could once again make out the couches around the room, and see the figures within. Simultaneously the lights around the room began to intensify, and he could begin to make out details in the room, and see the faces of the women who were his audience no more than 10 minutes prior. It said a lot for Daniel that, despite now being able to see the women who had been staring at his naked form since he began his recital, he did not even think to rush to the closet behind the podium to try and dress himself.
The sisters of the Order were of every age, shape and size. He noticed one tall woman who must have been 6'2, stockily built who was probably in her mid-40s. She was talking to a grandmotherly woman, easily in her 60s who had bright blue hair. A plump woman had not moved from her chair sat in the front row of chairs, idly eating from a bowl of strawberries while admiring Daniel openly. As per the invitation, all the women were wearing satin and silk. Some wore only a hint of it, leaving much of their bodies exposed, others wore garments of such quality you would not be able to buy it for less than six figures at auction. From the crowd, one woman was moving towards the front of the room.
Sister Siobhan was 5'5. The first thing that stood out about her was her brilliant red hair that fell in wild curls to her mid back. She walked with a confident stride, her leg muscles showing beneath her short dress that they were obviously strong and toned. Her face was striking with vivid green eyes and a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. Her breasts were at most a B cup, but firm and proud, as if daring anyone to call them inadequate. Her abs showed the same signs of tone that her legs did, making Daniel think she must be a dancer of some kind. Daniel estimated her age at early to mid-20s. Daniel couldn't help but think that this was a woman who was used to being obeyed. Her air of confidence and aura of power made him want to please her, even before she had said a word to him.
Sister Siobhan stopped in front of Daniel, and looked him up and down as someone examining a prize pig. Daniel stood stock still, not knowing what to do. Siobhan looked intently into Daniel's eyes, reached forth her hand and grabbed his penis forcefully. "You are mine. You will do as you are told, or I will break you." Daniel gulped, both from the sudden grip on his manhood and the sternness of her words. Daniel nodded mutely, and Siobhan let go of Daniel's cock. Siobhan turned to Alvin and said "Go get him prepped and the paperwork signed. Bring him to my booth afterwards. I have an appointment to keep." Alvin nodded, and signaled Daniel to follow him as they exited the room through the doorway at the opposite side of the room from with Daniel had entered. His clothes still in the closet behind the podium.