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Elder Dalton sat on the edge of the white altar bed, more aware of his fidgety knee than usual. His nerves were getting thebetter of him as he patiently waited to meet with Bishop Hart. He knew that today was the fulfillment of his calling, his ordination into the Order, and he couldn’t be more anxious. As he checked the buttons on his sleeves, keeping himself neat and presentable, he couldn’t deny how excited he was. Not only for the ordination into higher priesthood, but to feel Bishop Hart’s hands on his flesh once more. His mind wandered into where he was just a short period ago: a naive, virgin boy just beginning his missionary journey. He’d never even touched his own cock before Bishop Hart stroked it first, igniting his passions fantasies for the first time. Even with his modest experience since, he felt he had so much more to learn and discover…and Hart seemed to hold the map to those exciting feelings. Just as he felt the tip of his cock rouse itself up from between his legs, he saw the door of the room open in the corner of his eye, demanding his full attention. As his head turned, he saw Bishop Hart enter in his full-white attire. His shirt clung to his athletic body, pressed down by the tight straps of his suspenders. Hart’s tie drew Dalton’s eyes up from his loins to his handsome face, stunning him with his sly smirk and square jaw. Dalton’s felt his heart skip a beat as he took in the full visage of the handsome leader, amazed by just how powerful and sexy he was. He felt instantly that he had no place being entered into the Order, being nothing like his charming superior. He wanted to speak up and say they’d made a mistake–that he wasn’t ready and that he wasn’t worthy. But before he could muster the strength to make a sound, Bishop Hart put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, disarming him from making any kind of action. Any action, that is, except for reaching out for the bishop’s crotch, as if stroking a prize he aspired to earn.