Kathryn Belsky pulled her car into a parking space and turned off the engine. "What in the world," she muttered to herself, "am I doing here? Am I doing the right thing? Hell, am I even wearing the right clothes for this?" The "here" in this case was a former church in a rural area southwest of the city. Rumor had it the church had been bought by an unknown individual and turned into his house, but no one had been inside since the congregation moved to it's new home several miles away.
The "what" Kathryn Belsky was doing was responding to the latest in a series of cards she had received from an unknown admirer. The card had "commanded" her to come here on this Saturday morning, and required her to wear specific clothing. This was the latest in a series of "commands" she had received from this unknown person. Had she been told at first to come here, she would have thrown the note away. Instead, they had started off over five months ago as simple notes from a secret admirer. These notes had included little suggestions on how to relax, like listening to some quiet music or reading a book in a scented bath. She even followed the recommendation to keep a journal of how she had followed the suggestions, and what the results had been.
After several weeks, the notes had become more suggestive, more erotic. Kathryn actually hadn't minded; it had helped her indulge in the fantasy of an unseen lover. Her "seen" lover of nine months, Paul Trowbridge, was certainly a nice man and a somewhat-imaginative lover. But the two of them had been moving very slowly in their relationship, and Kathryn was becoming a little impatient. Impatient enough that, as the notes became more racy, Kathryn was willing to indulge.
One of the first "suggestions" she had indulged in was to take another comfy scented bath. This time, though, the suggestion included massaging herself. Though she had only massaged her legs and feet, it had proven extremely relaxing. The idea of following the secret bidding of an unknown lover had also sent a small thrill through her, which she duly recorded in her journal. She also wrote down her uncertainty as to why she was so thrilled, but that she truly enjoyed the feeling. The journal was also her secret, kept hidden in a chest of drawers under some old blankets. She wrote about each note, when it was received, how polite it had been, and how it had contained a small sheet of instructions. Every time, Kathryn wrote about how they made her feel, the good, the bad, the weird, even the sensual.
Over time, the tone of the instructions began to change. It was a subtle change, so subtle that, even when Kathryn wrote about them in her journal, she didn't realize they were becoming more commanding in tone. They went from "You might try..." to "you might want to..." to "I think you should try..." to "I would like you to..." to "I want you to...". Her own reflections changed as well, from "He suggested to me..." to "He asked me to..." to "He wanted me to..." to "He told me to...". Even as she wrote these changes, it never occurred to her that she was giving control of herself to someone else, something that she would have denied ever being possible if someone directly asked her to.
The latest card had arrived the previous Monday. As per the "recommendations" of an earlier note, she first read the card and it's instruction list in a hot, lavender-scented tub, the room lit with candles. Every time before, she sat and soaked for a while, contemplated the instructions, then followed them to the letter. This set, though, was different. After having her massage herself, the note told her to come to the church on Saturday. It instructed her on the type of clothing she should wear (a front-button blouse, white socks, white panties and back-clasp bra, and her choice of skirt/slacks/jeans) and instructed her to bring along several other items in an oversize purse. Kathryn had chosen to wear a white blouse and gray skirt, her usual work attire as a legal secretary. Under "normal" circumstances she would also have worn either a slip, or a camisole and half-slip, but those had not been included in the list of "authorized clothing". The note had also included a key to the church, and a necklace with a silver pendant that she was to wear as well.
Kathryn walked up to the door, her purse slung over her right shoulder. The wind began to whip her skirt around, making her hope the key in her hand would work and she could get out of the cold, gray weather. It did, and she was quickly inside, making sure the door was closed and locked behind her, as she had been instructed. Though the entry way was sparsely lit with candles, she could see where remodeling had been done, turning the back half of the old church into a series of rooms. What the rooms were, she couldn't tell in the darkness. A few steps in, and she heard voices. After a few minutes, she realized it was chanting, like monks from a medieval monastery. While wondering how many people might be waiting for her, the music drew her on, into the remainder of the chapel, which was totally dark. Suddenly, a green spotlight came on above her, bathing her in an eerie light. She froze in her tracks, looking around and seeing nothing. Then a voice boomed out.
"What are you doing here?" Though loud and obviously altered, the voice was still soothing to her ears. It was gentle and polite, not harsh and accusatory. It asked a simple question, to which she mumbled an answer. "Please, speak up, I did not hear you."
"I said," Kathryn stammered, "that I was told to come here, to meet someone here."
"And how did you get in?"
"I-- I was given a key for the front door."
"What is your name?"
"Kath-- Kathryn Belsky. Why am I here?"
"Relax, and you will find out. Who told you to come here?"
"I, um, I'm not sure. I've been getting a series of notes --"
"There is one way to prove who you are. Remove your jacket, and unbutton your blouse." Kathryn did as she was told. And as she followed the instructions, the light overhead changed from green to red. Soon Kathryn had dropped her jacket and opened her blouse, her purse at her feet. There, hanging between her breasts, was a brightly polished Ankh that readily reflected the green light she stood in. It and the necklace it hung from had been included in the last note Kathryn had received. Those instructions had told her to wear the necklace to this meeting. Now she knew why.
"Yes," the voice gently boomed, "you wear the Ankh, the Symbol of the Summoned." A spotlight came on far ahead of her, revealing a person wearing an old hooded robe, very similar to that worn by medieval monks. "Welcome, Kathryn. You have done well. When the light over you changes to white, another light will come on. Walk into it. There is no reason to be afraid. You will not be harmed." Soon, a few steps ahead of her, a blue spotlight came on overhead, and the light she stood under turned white. She stepped forward into the blue light, not realizing the light she had left had faded out. "Do you understand why you are here, Kathryn?"
"I assume I'm going to meet this 'secret admirer', whoever or wherever he is."
"In part, Kathryn. You will meet him. And you will be very happy. Now, Kathryn, are you ready to continue the journey?"
"I, um, I think so. But I didn't know I was on a journey."
"Yes, Kathryn, you're on a journey. A journey of self. Now, to take the next step, you must do as I say. Are you ready?"
"Yes."
"First, take off your shoes and socks. You will not need them again until you leave. Sit down if you need to." Kathryn sat down, removed her shoes and socks, and stood back up. "Now, Kathryn, the time has come to truly begin revealing yourself. You will now remove all your clothing except your bra and panties."
"Wait, you want... want me to strip?"
"Yes, Kathryn. You've followed the other instructions I have mailed you, have you not? And were not some of them similar to that command?"
"Well, yes... yes, I did," Kathryn stammered. "Some of them were even more exotic than that. I guess... it's the new setting, not being at home --"
"Relax, Kathryn... close your eyes..." Kathryn closed her eyes and listened to the voice, and the music. "You are safe here, Kathryn Belsky, as safe and intimate as in your own home. Do not worry," the voiced said to her. Kathryn found the voice and the music soothing, and was soon very relaxed. "Now, Kathryn, take off your blouse." Already unbuttoned, Kathryn pulled it from under her skirt, slipped it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. The light above her changed color, reddening her creamy skin, along with the satin and frilly lace imprisoning her breasts.
"Mmmm... yess..." the voice softly moaned, admiring the close-up view of her breasts through a video camera with a super-zoom lens. Though he couldn't determine her actual sizes or measurements by looking at the monitor, the mysterious robed man admired how Kathryn's breasts, held in a size 34-C bra, were nicely proportioned with her well-toned 5' 3" body. He especially liked the sight of her nipples, dark spots under the white fabric, perked and straining to break through their lacy coverings. He also enjoyed the shimmer of light on satin, changing as her breasts heaved with every breath.
"Now Kathryn, take off your skirt. Let it fall away, taking with it your outside concerns. From now on, until you leave, this is your world... nothing else exists outside of it. This place... this... 'temple'... is your universe." As the voice said this, it became softer... breathier... almost hypnotic. "Drop your skirt, Kathryn... join me... in your new world." The words and the tone of the voice affected Kathryn. In a slight daze, she slowly unbelted and undid her skirt, dropping it on the floor. The voice again quietly moaned in delight, marveling at how Kathryn's pubic mound filled her matching French-cut panties, themselves only slightly lighter in color than her creamy thighs and hips.
"Kathryn, you follow your instructions well. And your choice of undergarments is excellent. Most excellent. Be pleased... I am. Now, when the light turns white, pick up your purse and move to the next spotlight." Within a few minutes, the light above her turned white and a yellow spot appeared a few steps ahead of her. She walked into the yellow light, the second white light fading away behind her. A bit more alert from her walk, she had to ask a question.
"What kind of place is this? What kind of church has people stand in their undies under spotlights?"
