The Convent Pt. 06

Those important exceptions aside, however, Dean had known Ryan pretty well. But the question now was whether he would recognise Amanda...

At her first sight of the mystery client, Amanda stopped dead in her tracks. Yet even as she felt the blood drain out of her face, all the training and self-control she had learnt at the Convent prevented her from betraying the shock she felt. After just a few seconds of frozen immobility, she rearranged her face into a warm smile.

Striding confidently across the lobby, her insides churning, she greeted her mark. "Hello-"

She stopped, conscious that she had been about to call him Mr Brandeis. She knew from previous experiences that some clients used their real name, others a pseudonym - and this was one time that she hadn't been given any information.

"Hello sir," she said, amending her greeting. "I believe you're waiting on a special delivery from HB?" This was the standard code for any meeting in public.

"Indeed," he replied smoothly, running an admiring eye over her. "Very special, I'd say!"

"Thank you sir," said Amanda brightly. "I'm sure you'll enjoy it. Is there somewhere we can go to discuss the arrangements?"

To her vast relief, he showed no sign of recognising her as he led her to a lift and then used a special code to access the top floor of the hotel.

That wasn't so surprising, she reflected. After all, she looked vastly different. The various treatments and cosmetic surgery at the Convent had not just given her boobs, wider hips, a plumper bottom and much higher voice. Her face had been reshaped as well, and with makeup on even she struggled sometimes to see what was left of the man she had once been.

As they rode up in the elevator, she leaned in conspiratorially and whispered: "So, what would you like me to call you, honey? Sir? Master? Maybe... Daddy?"

He scoffed at that, though there was no hint of reproof. "Dean will do," he said firmly.

Amanda gave a silent sigh of relief. Now she didn't have to worry about inadvertently calling her new client by a name she couldn't have known.

The day went more or less as expected. She was driven in an expensive, open-topped sports car out to a delightful spot on the peninsula, where they walked on a beach before having a fabulous seafood meal. Unlike some other clients, Dean said nothing whatsoever about his work, but they still seemed to find plenty to chat about.

They were now back in the hotel. And it was time for her to really earn her money... or the Order's money, at any rate.

As he entered her for the first time, she called out: "Oh god, your cock feels so good inside me. Now fuck me with it, fuck that sweet ass! That's it, yes, like that... only harder! Come on baby, make me cum for you..."

From Ryan's previous sexcapades with the man, she knew that he loved women who talked dirty: the sluttier and more demanding the better, in fact. So, she kept up an obscene commentary as he tore into her ass, alternately cajoling and demanding.

For whatever reason, her first ruined orgasm was fairly quick to arrive. But rather than fake the rest of the climax, as she had become very adept at doing, she opted to hold off until Dean was ready to pour his seed into her. Only when she judged that he was ready to pop did she elevate her moans and demands to shrieks of ecstasy.

That was enough to send him over the edge and he came very noisily inside her. After he had withdrawn, he collapsed onto the bed. Unbidden, she turned him over, then began to noisily lick and suck his twitching organ until it was completely free of his spunk.

As always, Amanda had kept her rectal passage scrupulously clean, and Dean himself was freshly showered, so all she could taste was the lubricant and the pearly white residue of his pleasure. Cleaning up a man who had been inside her was not always so palatable, but given what she sometimes had to put up with at the Convent, she had learnt not to be too fastidious.

Settling down with her head on his generous, hairy belly, she popped his softening cock into her mouth and just let it rest there. It was a trick she'd learnt that seemed to speed up the process of recovery for a second bout.

And sure enough, after just ten minutes it started to grow again, a process Amanda encouraged by fondling Dean's heavy balls. Once his shaft was fully hard again, she slid it out from her throat and resumed her ribald exhortations, in between lapping at the swollen, purple head and working the ball sack into her mouth.

She knew from previous observation how much he loved having his cock sucked. So, it was no surprise when he was content to let her work away at him with his mouth, until eventually he was pouring another burst of creamy goo down her gullet.

As always, she had to ignore the horrible taste. Before being trapped and feminised, Ryan had never previously tasted spunk, not even his own (his sexual curiosity had manifested in many ways, but never that one). So, Amanda couldn't say for sure that it wasn't like that for everyone.

But she suspected that, as with so much of her body chemistry, her taste buds had been altered by the Order. It surely couldn't be an accident that there was such a contrast between what she experienced when sampling a man's seed, and the utterly delicious taste of the pitifully small quantities of cum that oozed out of her own shrunken member and those of the other novices.

She had hoped that a second orgasm might satisfy Dean, at least for a while. But when he showed no sign of wanting to settle down to sleep, she opted to rouse him again by talking about what a gorgeous cock he had and how she would love to feel it from a host of different angles.

From the speed with which he got hard again and the fact that it stayed that way through the dizzying series of positions they tried out over the next hour, she suspected that he had taken something to enhance his performance.

But eventually the kneeling wheelbarrow did the trick. Within five minutes of erupting for a third time and flooding Amanda's now thoroughly greased ass with his hot cum, Dean was snoring gently alongside her.

She waited a good twenty minutes until she was certain he was asleep, before cautiously getting out of bed. Moving as quietly as she could, she retrieved Dean's phone from the drawer in which she had seen him place it, then took it into the bathroom with her purse.

Ignoring the steady stream of spunk that was dripping from her still gaping asshole, she plugged Dean's phone into her own, using a cable that she took from a concealed compartment in the base of her bag. After keying in a combination that opened a hidden app, she put the phones down and finally turned to cleaning up both herself and the little puddle of cream on the tiled floor.

Looking anxiously at the display on her phone, she waited until it showed that the transfer was complete, then unhooked the two devices. Her heart was hammering as she went back into the bedroom and returned Dean's phone to the drawer, careful to put it back exactly where she had found it.

All the while she kept listening for any sound that he was stirring. It was only when she slipped back into bed and snuggled up against his warm body that she could finally start to breathe freely again.

After all her exertions, sleep should have come fairly easily. But the strain of what she had been asked to do kept her awake, as did the inevitable speculation of just what the Order either wanted or intended to do with whatever secrets were to be found on Dean's phone.

In the result, Amanda had a few fitful hours of slumber at best before being woken by the feel of Dean's tongue on her sensitive nipples. Soon enough, she was once again begging him to fuck her, and using her well-developed muscles to squeeze his shaft as tightly as she could as it slid inside her.

The previous night's exertions had plainly taken their toll on him, and it took some particularly vigorous squatting on her part to coax another and this time more modest eruption from his straining cock. Her own legs were more than a little rubbery by the time she joined him in the shower.

Over a fine breakfast, for which he showed a voracious appetite, Dean showered Amanda with compliments and even asked if she'd consider what he called an "exclusive arrangement."

"I could make it worth your while, you know," he said, stroking her hand as he sipped his coffee. "Place of your own, good income to live on, plenty of opportunity for travel. I'd even pay for you to study, if you wanted to set yourself up for a career. For, well, after..."

For after I've lost my looks and you've found a younger fuck-toy, you mean, thought Amanda. But she simply smiled sweetly and brought his hand up to her lips to kiss it gently.

"That's very sweet of you," she replied, "but I'm afraid I'm not allowed to take on other commitments right now."

Dean's face crinkled into a frown. "Not allowed? What do you mean? All you have to do is tell the agency you want to move on, right?"

No, I really can't. But Amanda couldn't say that, of course. Cursing her slip, she hastened to explain.

"Well, I could, only they've really helped make me what I am today." That was certainly true. "And I'm still in the process of... getting things done. So I'm kind of on a promise to keep working for them until, well, the transition is complete."

Dean smiled. "Well, if you're thinking about getting yourself a pussy, I can tell you you don't need it, sweetheart. That ass of yours is as good as anything I've had... But okay. Still, if you change your mind, you let me know, you hear?"

She agreed and took his phone number, reflecting as she did so that she had already taken a lot more than that...

When she returned to the Convent later that morning, a surprise was in store for her. She was taken straight to Sister Mercy's office, only to find it occupied by an older nun, wearing a habit that was not black, but a dark purple. It was not a colour Amanda had seen before on any nun of the Order.

"My name is Reverend Mother Harmony," said the nun. She indicated a chair. "Sit down please Amanda."

Her voice was pleasant, but the overtones of command were unmistakable. She had a plump, unremarkable face, although the eyes behind the thick, horn-rimmed glasses hinted at the steel that had to lie inside. This was the most senior nun Amanda had encountered in the Order so far. She was positive that nobody could ascend within that organisation on the basis of decency and kindness.

"Your phone please dear," instructed the older woman. Wordlessly, Amanda handed it over. Mother Harmony glanced at the device and then tucked it away in a hidden pocket in her robes. "I take it you did as you were asked?"

"Yes mother," answered the novice. "There weren't any problems. Or none that I know about at any rate."

"Good." The purple-clad nun gave Amanda a searching look. "But I imagine you'd like to know what's going on? Why we sent you to service one of your father's most trusted associates?"

Amanda's hesitation was barely perceptible. "It's not my position to ask, mother."

Her superior gave a thin smile. "No indeed. But I'm going to tell you anyway. Or some of it." She shifted in her comfortable leather chair before continuing.

"The part I'm sure you've already guessed is that we wanted to see whether you could get through an encounter with someone you used to know, without giving yourself away. Or someone Ryan used to know, I should say."

Amanda nodded. That part of it was obvious enough. What surprised her though was that the older nun's correction seemed so appropriate. After the initial shock, she had found it surprisingly easy to think of Dean as somebody else's acquaintance, not hers.

"But the little bit of espionage we asked you to undertake? That runs a little deeper. When we first liberated Sister Felicity and decided to improve the world by, ah, re-educating her appalling boyfriend, we didn't know whose son he was, or much about his father. Oh, we'd heard about Alan Seldon, but we'd had no reason to pay him much attention."

She gave a grimace. "When we did some digging, however, we didn't like what we found. It's one thing to support a financial and political system that marginalises women. Most businesses do that. It's something else to profit from the sale and sexual exploitation of women and young girls, as your father has effectively done. He knew full well whose money his companies were laundering."

The thin smile was back. "And yes, I do understand the irony of helping to run an organisation that's not above enslaving men and forcing them to sell their bodies. Our methods can be regrettable, even immoral. But we're fighting a war against overwhelming odds and sometimes... there are casualties." She gave Amanda a pointed look. "Some innocent, some not so much."

Mother Harmony leant back in her chair. "Anyway, back to your father. We might have settled just for making him think one of his sons was a criminal. Not that he's missing him that much, mind. And he cares a lot more about the money he thinks Ryan stole than the sex scandal we manufactured."

Her mouth twitched with disgust. "But what we couldn't ignore was all the sexual violence. The things he did himself, the disgusting behaviour he didn't just tolerate from the men around him, but positively encouraged. The man you were... Ryan was an unpleasant bully who needed to be taught a lesson. But he didn't know the half of what was going on."

She sighed. "So, we're going to take him down. And this" - she tapped the pocket that contained Amanda's phone - "should help a great deal."

Amanda listened with mounting astonishment. Not about the much larger game that the Order seemed to be playing, or the crusade they seemed to have taken up against her father. Nor even the suggestions of darker patterns of female mistreatment than the casual misogyny Ryan had both witnessed and perpetrated.

No, what really shocked her was how little she cared. Ryan had never liked his father, but he would have defended the man's choices and accepted the harm done to others as the price of doing business successfully. Ryan strongly believed in a system that gave him wealth and privileges.

Amanda, by contrast, cared nothing for that system, or the men who profited from it. Or any men for that matter. She had no love for the Order either. But she did at least respect the strength and commitment of the women who ran it. And perhaps even recognised the justice of what had been done to her, even as she struggled to resist it.

Whether what they were now planning to do to Ryan's father was defensible or appropriate was simply irrelevant. All that mattered was whether they had the power and the will. Her money, if she had any, would have been on the Order.

So, when Mother Harmony asked whether she was at all concerned about what she had heard, or wanted to know more, she simply shook her head and said: "No mother."

The nun held Amanda's gaze for a moment, then nodded. "Good. Now, that brings us to the question of what we do with you. I think it's time you moved out of this convent, don't you?"

Amanda blinked, then said slowly. "I'm not sure mother. It depends on... where you want to send me."

And that was nothing less than the truth. For all her (or at least Ryan's) desperation to escape, she had come to feel secure in the Convent's routines. As she now was, she didn't know what kind of life she could manage if she had to fend for herself.

"Fair enough," conceded Mother Harmony. "We're planning to send you to work at one of our special schools. It will give you a new perspective on our work. And if you make a success of it, you may have the opportunity to ascend to the sisterhood."

Amanda nodded. "And the... escort work?"

"Oh, that will continue, at least while you remain a novice. You're too valuable an asset to keep locked away. Why, do you enjoy it?"

Amanda thought about the question. "I... I think I enjoy being good at it, mother." And that, for a wonder, was the simple truth.

The senior nun gave a bark of laughter. "Yes, I imagine you do. Anyway, you'll be transferring today. So don't bother to change. Just go straight to the surgery. And well done on this latest job. You did both yourself and the Order proud."

Once again, Amanda had to work hard not to let her surprise show. That might well have been the first outright compliment she'd received in all the time she'd been at the Convent. But she simply thanked the reverend mother, curtsied and took herself off to the surgery, as instructed.

There she was inspected, given a number of injections, and had the prosthetic that hid what was left of her genitals cleaned and replaced. Something felt a little different about it afterwards, though she couldn't say what exactly.

From there she was not sent back to her chamber to pack up her meagre belongings, as she would have expected. Instead, she was directed to Sister Chastity's rooms.

She found the nun in a characteristic posture - sitting on a chair with her legs splayed and her black robe lifted to reveal her hairless cunt. She smiled at Amanda and nodded to a spot on the floor in front of her. Amanda reflected that she must have some special skills as a cunnilinguist, to be summoned for one last bout of oral sex before she departed from the Convent.

There were definitely worse things to do than pleasure the good looking and sensual nun. If only, Amanda thought as she knelt down and brought her tongue to bear on a pussy that quickly moistened under her attentions, the woman could stop at just one orgasm. Or even four or five.

It was a surprise then when, after a typically noisy climax, Sister Chastity did not instruct Amanda to keep going. Instead, she led the sissy novice into her bedroom, told her to strip off down to her stockings and then made her lie down on her back on the bed.

Amanda complied, wondering what the nun had in mind and half expecting to see chains brought out to shackle her to the bedposts. The last thing she was expecting was for Sister Chastity to strip off her robes, join her on the bed and bring her soft lips down on Amanda's.

As she returned the kiss, first hesitantly and then with increasing enthusiasm as the nun's tongue probed her mouth, Amanda was dimly aware that this was the first time she had kissed a woman since, well, before Ryan had been taken captive. That was not counting any of the novices of course; and since Agnes' betrayal, it seemed only right to treat them as the treacherous men they really were. As for the nuns, she could not recall any of them showing affection in this way before.

The surprises kept coming when Sister Chastity transferred her mouth to Amanda's firm boobs. As her nipples were teased to stiffness, Amanda felt a familiar heat begin to rise in her groin. Moving almost of their own volition, she felt her hands reach for the soft warm body that was now laying across her. One found the nape of the nun's neck and stroked it, while the other sought out one of the older woman's heavy breasts and started fondling it. The two of them moaned, almost simultaneously.

But the biggest shock was still to come. After a couple of minutes of industrious work on Amanda's ripe and succulent tits, Sister Chastity broke the embrace and positioned herself between the novice's stocking-clad legs. Amanda propped herself up on her elbows and watched in amazement as the nun brought her head down to her younger colleague's artificial slit.

With a smile, Sister Chastity said softly: "Think of this as a going away present." Then she slid her tongue inside the new prosthesis.

Since that terrible first day at the Convent, on which Ryan had his male parts sealed away, they had been both inert and unreachable. All that could be felt inside the fake labia that concealed them was the nozzle of the tube that allowed both urine and very small quantities of spunk to emerge.