An orientation to the obligations of Sexual Equity.

In 4 parts, by oolonroosevelt. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

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Forward: About New Dorset.

New Dorset is an island, and nation-state, in the northeast Pacific. Located 450 km southwest of the Baja California peninsula, it is the largest territory (other than Antarctica) to have no native population when first discovered by Europeans. It was first discovered in 1533 by Spanish explorers, but no Spanish presence was ever established, and it was disputed between Spain and Britain until Spain withdrew its claim in 1815. It was colonized by the British beginning in the early 1800s, and given its independence along with other British dominions in 1931.

New Dorset is a constitutional monarchy with a parliamentary government, with a constitution in broad terms similar to that of the United Kingdom and many former British colonies, but governed under the unique principles of Sexual Equity.

New Dorset has 8,671,074 inhabitants. and the capitol is Dorchester.

The Duchies, or provinces are:

Bathurst, whose capitol is also Dorchester, has 832,092.

Wilmot-Horton, whose capitol is Portsmouth, has 2.046,189.

Goderich, whose capitol is Poole, has 1,100,280.

Deltaland, whose capitol is Stafford, has 1,195,146.

Alicia, whose capitol is Taylorville, has 1,024,764.

Helenia, whose capitol is Jenkins, has 1,040,141.

Louisia, whose capitol is Kibblewhite, has 537,428.

Beatricia, whose capitol is Packman, has 895,034.

Orientation begins:

Twelve women in the their twenties and thirties, dressed in pantsuits or blazers and skirts, file in to the conference room and sit around the table. At first, they talk of their journeys here to the capital; soon he discussion turns to constituency office staffing and committee assignments. Finally an older woman, about fifty, comes in, wearing a “State Service Office” badge on a lanyard.

“Hello. Welcome to State Service Orientation. I’m Rebecca Upston, the Parliamentary Commissioner for State Service. Angela, who usually does new officeholder orientation, is off today, so you get me; I’m the head of the program. Thanks for coming on time. I know this seems uncomfortable and frightful for some of you, but don’t worry, for almost everyone orientation, and service generally, turns out to be a good experience. Can you introduce yourselves? Just first names here. You can call me Rebecca.”

They go around the room, and each says her name. Rebecca makes a point of repeating them back. “Georgia.” “Eva.” “Lucy.” “Holly.” “Bella.” “Brooke.” “Samantha.” “Jasmine.” “Sophie.” “Madison.” “Summer.” “Elizabeth.”

Rebecca says, “Great. And most of you are new members of the Legislative Assembly from; which province was it, Deltaland, right? Except Sophie, who won the federal by election in MacVicar, and Lucy, who is the newest city council member in Poole. Her election was just two days ago. Thanks for coming down so quickly.

“Congratulations to all of you on running for and winning office, on being chosen to represent and lead your people. What we are here for today may not seem like it has much to do with what you do in the legislature, but you’ll see that it does.

“I was an MP for twelve years and on my city council for four years before that, so even before this job, I did my share of state service. A lot of women come in with ideas about service that are pretty far off, so even though we provide you with written materials, we have everyone do an in-person orientation. You’ve all read the ‘Your Service Obligation’ booklet, right?” A series of nods.

“All right. Let’s begin he orientation by letting me show you through your part of the selection process. Servitrixes , that’s what we call women who have a service obligation, go online each month and sign up for service room assignments. By the way, in real life nobody ever calls them ‘service rooms,’ they’re always called ‘cribs,’ except in the paperwork. Anyway, the Service Office will send you the date each month when you’re eligible to select times and places. You get a different date depending on whether you’re a minister, an MP, an MLA, or what. If it’s available, you’re allowed to choose any crib, anywhere. Usually, you’ll want to pick one near where you work, but it’s up to you.”

She calls the web site up on the projector and goes through a sample assignment selection process. “You pick the number of appointments you need each month for your obligation. Each appointment time lasts an hour. Ten minutes at the beginning is for preparation and fifteen at the end is for clean-up, so if you have two crib assignments in a row, you’ll have a twenty-five minute break in between.”

“What if we forget to sign up?” asks Georgia.

“Well, you can always sign up late, and be limited to whatever crib spaces are available. We’ll try to accommodate you if we can. Ultimately, it’s your responsibility to make sure you can fulfil your service obligation. If you don’t, you can end up before the Joint Disciplinary Committee, and ultimately lose your seat. So don’t do that. Sign up early, get convenient crib assignments, do your service, and then go back and run the country. That’s how service is supposed to work. All the details are on the help pages online.”

“OK, so that’s how you’ll sign up. I want to give you a a general idea about how patrons (men who receive service) sign up too. Patrons sign up on a weekly basis instead of a monthly basis, and select their preferences from the service room assignments you’ve chosen. They select their preferred times and servitrixes, and the system matches them up. There are a lot more men who want to receive service than servitrixes to provide it, so there’s a complicated system for building the waiting list. Patrons get priority firstly on how long they’ve been waiting, then on whether they live in the constituency of the woman in question, and last on whether they’ve received any honors – lords, knights and members of the various orders of merit all have their own priority levels.”

“I thought earls and lords could get service anytime they wanted,” asked Lucy.

“No, just the duke of each province and the king. Nobles get some preference, but if a regular man with no honors has been waiting longer than an earl, he will get service even if the earl has to wait. Where the honors make a difference is in whether they get their first choice of servitrix.

Samantha asks, "Why do we sign up monthly when men sign up weekly?”

“It just works out better that way; it allows women to establish their schedules in advance, which is especially important for women like the foreign minister, who has to make sure she squeezes in her service obligation in between foreign trips. For men, it’s easier to pick appointment times closer to when they’ll actually go, and weekly signups allow the waiting lists to shuffle more often, which gives a sense of progress, even if the wait isn’t really any different in the long run. As long as you sign up on time for your assignments, the difference won’t affect you.

"Oh, one other thing you should know: if a crib isn’t being used, servitrixes can sign up to use it for whatever they want; either take a friend down there, or just use the lounge to take a nap or something. Perk bookings open up at the beginning of the week, after any late assignments.

"Any other questions? OK, they should be ready for us in the cribs now.”

Rebecca leads the women out of the conference room and into the hall. They pause in the Grand Hall on the way to the stairs. “Parliament House is a beautiful place to work. State service reminds us of our responsibility to the citizens, but the building reminds us how glorious our country is and what a privilege it is to lead it. We who work here are fortunate, especially the MPs. State service might seem like an heavy burden at times, but it’s a small price to pay. I don’t regret a day of it.”

They descend a stairway and travel down another hall, and come to an alcove marked Service Rooms; East, where two athletic men in their twenties are standing.

“Hello, Ms. Upston.”

“Hello, gentlemen,” says Rebecca. “These are two of our instructors. We don’t use names for our patrons, so for now we’ll just call them Mr. M and Mr. V.” They exchange a round of greetings.

Rebecca addresses a woman in a security uniform sitting behind a glass window in the back of the alcove.

“Hi, Harper,” says Rebecca. “Harper here is our first line of security. We know you are in a vulnerable position with you don’t know, so we take security very seriously at the Service Office, especially here at Parliament House. We show you this side during orientation so you can feel confident in your safety. You’ve all gone through body scanners to get into Parliament House. Security’s even tighter down here. No man can get into the cribs until the guard gives them a key and buzzes them in. Harper, can you check in Mr. M and Mr. V?”

Harper checks their IDs and then passes two plastic rings through the window, and the two men each take one. Mr. M puts the ring on a finger, then presses the ring to a badge reader n