Today was my 21st birthday. Today was the day I receive my sacred robes and join the Holy Harem. I sat up in my cot. The cell around me was dingy as always, slightly damp smell and chilling cold still giving me goosebumps. The cream colored initiate robes I wore didn't help at all, the material thin and loose, allowing a draft to pierce through to my skin. My hair was tied back, a dark ponytail, and my feet were bare as always. I spun and placed my feet on the floor, the rough stone a cool grounding device for my racing heart as always.
I wanted to race out of the cell, screaming and cheering as I ran towards the Temple Halls, but I instead stood slowly, beginning my morning stretches as always. Reaching to touch my toes, bending my body, flexing every muscle as I slowly slid from position to position, limbering my body for today. Normally this would be for morning exercise, and to keep my limbs alive when in the uncomfortable positions Sister Annabelle had us assume. They were ridiculous, what kind of man would want us standing on our heads with our legs knotted? That didn't make sense with the textbooks we were given. Wouldn't they rather us remain naked and laying back, so they could use us and leave? After all, "It's a woman's place to submit to the Man, for it is her duty." Wouldn't doing complicated stretches and strange positions be contrary to that?
These were old questions, but ones I dare not ask, as the Matron-Sisters punished those who dared to speak above their station. I still have memories of the last time I dared ask a question, as the bruises were still on my wrist from where Sister Hannah had dragged me to the dungeon and ripped out some of my hair. I had been crying, tears running down my face as she tore into me, face twisted into a visage of hatred and anger I had never seen on any faces outside of the Temple. Even the Blood Tribe of the Western Plains, the Berserkers captured and brought to the Holy City didn't rival her in their legendary rage. My hair was still messed up from that as well, and I was forced to wear it in a ponytail rather than my usual knots that I kept it in.
As I relived these memories, the door opened and the servant, a young boy named Thomas, came in with my morning ration and a wrapped package. My new Robes!
I don't remember eating the meal, though I know I ate it first as it was sitting by the door, left neat for pick up later. Instead, I was staring at the new outfit laid out on my cot. It was what was called "skimpy" by the textbooks, and resembled the robes of the Matron-Sisters. It consisted of a long loincloth that went over both my crotch and my ass, reaching almost all the way to the floor. The loincloth was attached to a metal belt that would cinch tight to my waist. With it came a pair of sandals, open on the top with light soles at the bottom. These brought me excitement and dread, as it would be the first pair of shoes I've owned in 14 years. For my chest it held also a metal bra, loose enough to leave my tits swinging free while keeping them pushed up in order to make them more appealing. On my shoulders was a set of pauldrons that looped right below my armpit, spiky with the Temple's distinctive design, and a set of fingerless gloves that reached partway up my forearm close to my elbow. To complete it was a beautiful crystal crown, marking me as a Temple Sister Adept, new to the public face but experienced in the Theology of our order. Overall, it left little to the imagination, but marked out my occupation. In short, it was perfect.
