The Temple Ch. 01

"But... I choose to stay... to stay here. To learn --"

"A brave choice, Kathryn, but one you are not yet ready to pursue. You have learned a lot here this afternoon... especially about yourself. Now you need to go home and think about what you have learned. You need time to rest, and contemplate all you have seen and heard. You have accomplished much today," he said in as soothing a voice as the speaker system could provide. "I'm proud of you, Kathryn. You have taken big steps towards your future by following the notes I have sent you; your presence here proves this. Your next step will be to come here and follow those commands in person, in front of me. I think after some soul searching over the next few days, you will be ready for that step. For now, get dressed, go home, relax." Kathryn started to turn, to pick up her clothes to get dressed and leave, when the voice spoke again. "Before you leave, Kathryn, tell me this: What do you wear when you go to sleep now?"

Kathryn was silent for several seconds, surprised by the decidedly odd question. "As... as you directed... several weeks ago... I wear only my pleasure harness when I'm sleeping alone."

"Alone?"

"There have been... several times..." Kathryn made a slight gasp of air. "I'm sorry. There have been several times in the last three weeks that Paul... my boyfriend... has spent the night with me. I know that some would not see that... as proper. After all," she babbled, "I'm a 44-year-old widow with a daughter in college. Widows don't sleep with boy--"

"Quiet, Kathryn." Though said softly, the words had an immediate effect. "Did I prohibit this activity? No. Nor will I now. And you were right to not wear your harness; it is only to be between us. Now, the nights when you've worn only your harness... have you... touched yourself? Explored yourself? Pleasured yourself?"

"Yes... yes... you told me I should. But when I did... I felt... dirty. Like I was doing something wrong. Yet I enjoyed it so much... I couldn't stop."

"Now you will. When you go sleep tonight, and until I tell you otherwise, you will wear a bra, panties, a sweatshirt and sweat pants. You will be covered but for your feet, face and hands. You will not touch yourself sensually. During the day, you will wear under your blouse the necklace and pendant I sent you. You'll take the necklace off before going to bed; that is for your own safety. You will do all of this during this next week, unless I tell you otherwise. You will also take time to relax. Review your journal. Think about all that has happened. And if you feel you are ready, come back next Saturday morning. I will be here. Do you have any more questions before you leave?"

"No... uh... I'm not even sure what to call you. You know my name, my address, but I know so little about you... I haven't seen your face or body, just the robe."

"That is a fair question, Kathryn. This robe is all you shall see of me for the moment. As for my name, until I say different, you will address me as 'sir'." Taking a second to let that sink in, he added, "Do you have a problem with any of that, Kathryn?"

"Um... no, sir."

"And as for your name, I shall call you... Katya. Yes, Katya shall be your name, or 'little one', or 'sub', or some combination. Is that a problem?"

"No, sir. And thank you."

"Why do you thank me, little one?"

"For asking if I can accept these names, and not just commanding it. That respect makes me more comfortable, sir."

"And now Katya, it is time for you to leave. I hope I will see you here next Saturday. And remember, I am here for you. This place is here for you... and so is your future." The light over the robed figure winked out. In a daze, Kathryn Belsky stood up and turned around. She walked through the white spotlights, collecting her clothes along the way. Dressing under the last spotlight in the converted chapel, she took another look down the spot lit aisle before leaving. All the way home, she wondered what she had done, what she had done wrong, and what was expected of her. The first thing she did on arriving home was to put all of this in her journal.

"I find myself wanting this," she wrote, "yet not wanting it. I feel I have failed, yet I'm not sure of what was expected. God, this is so confusing. How can I figure out what I did wrong without knowing or being sure of what is 'right'? Oh, God, I need a bath. A nice, long, relaxing soak. Oh hell, I can't!!! Paul's coming over tonight for dinner. That only gives me three hours to make something. I hope I can throw something together. Wait, what am I talking about? I'm so damn confused I can't even remember that I started a crock pot of spaghetti sauce before I left this morning!!! Maybe I'll -- no, no maybe about it; I've got to have that bath. Hopefully I can get settled down before Paul gets here. Now, where did I put the candles and lavender bath oil? It'll be a much less relaxing bath without them. I just hope I calm down enough, because if I don't, Paul will want answers. Answers I just don't have."