The Sisterhood - Part 1

A cloudless evening sky, lit-up by the full moon, bestowing alternating bluish and orange hues upon the fine valley mist, interrupted by the glow of the headlights approaching; a cool comforting summer breeze, carrying the moist lush flavors of Babylon's hanging gardens atop the hill; standing in the doorway of the antecourt, making sure everything is in order for their arrival, I breathe in the fecund wisp, while it imparts a slight chill to the metallic saddle belt, fitted tightly around my waistline.
It took me months of training to master the art of serving the sisterhood, to move gracefully while being hitched up in my harness, the metal tube with spiked inlays keeping my manhood at bay and the titanium rod protruding deep inside from behind, ensuring effortless penetration at the sisterhood's convenience.

I take a last look around; the reflection of the stately manor in the ripples of the pool overlayed by glimmering moonbeams, the odors of multitudes of flowers and blooming vines, blossoming in pots, garden-beds and meticulously arranged bouquets all around the broad expanse of the exterior, and the manor itself, a residence of the gilded age, inspired by French renaissance architecture, bristling with turrets, chimneys, and lucarnes on the high roofs, the windows segmented in grid patterns underneath richly decorated pediments, marble balconies and an imposing double-spiral stairway.
Everything seems to be in order, I breathe a sigh of relief. As head-maid the responsibility rests upon me and failure is not an option for death would be a more merciful fate.
I check the satin ribbon around my neck and my flared cap sleeves, make sure the sheer laced black over-knee skirt of my uniform is properly fitted over my harness and the shiny waist apron is centered.
Cross-dressing for men is a mortal sin within the sisterhood, for men are not worthy of heavenly garments. But the maid uniform is seen as a distinctly male apparel while most ladies on duty wear suits or dresses. As an example, take the two apprentice sisters, standing just across of me at the front gate. They wear dapper dark velvet dresses, awaiting the guests to arrive, while two sister guards in dark blue suits are keeping watch nearby.
Miss Sutton, one of the apprentices gives me a slight nod, a gesture for me to approach. I bow and slowly walk towards her, while keeping my head down, my sight fixed on the ground. Men are not allowed to make direct eye-contact with sisters, unless given explicit permission to do so.
Sister apprentices, usually recruited from Ivy League schools, oversee the duties of the maids and slaves, while toys are trained and cultivated by sisters who have attained full membership status, also called fellowship, within the sisterhood.
Being invited into the sisterhood is a privilege, bestowed only upon the very best. This applies to both the sisters and even more so the males. Toys are usually the male spouses of fellows and have to undergo a rigorous training program before being allowed in.
Maids and slaves are full-time servants and in legal terms wards of the sisterhood. Slaves fulfill mechanical and menial tasks, never interact with full members, are never allowed to leave the premises of the manor, unless absolutely necessary (e.g., for medical or legal reasons), and are under constant surveillance, both electronically and by apprentices and guards on duty.
Maids on the other hand are responsible for day to day chores and housekeeping, serve all sisters during ceremonies and rituals and are permitted to leave the premises to run errands, if accompanied by an apprentice or a guard.
The guards are of course all female and usually ex-military (for instance marines or special forces) or have a martial arts background.
All males are strictly kept in chastity and only fellows have access to the keys. Off duty guards and apprentices can sexually exploit both maids and slaves who are not in use, but if they wish to unlock them they have to ask a member of the sisterhood.

After approaching Miss Sutton, I gently raise my skirt put my left foot forward and kneel down on my right knee. Miss Sutton chuckles, looks over to her sister apprentice and says: "Such a good boy, a nice little puppy!", while gently stroking my head. Then she softly pushes my chin up, signalling me that I may look at her and says: "Change of plans, my boy. The monstrosity in the basement needs to be activated. We will have a ritual tonight! Do you understand, little puppy?" Taken by surprise and trembling with excitement and anticipation I nod and whisper: "Yes, Miss Sutton. I'll get right to it. Thank you.".