Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 TRAINING Day 5: R & R It was the birds that woke her.  Kat didn't hear the
maid open the curtains and lift the window, and she didn't react to the
sunlight from outside shining directly upon her, but the birds that were in
the tree outside chirped a good morning, and Kat awoke slowly, dreamily. 
She looked at her strange surroundings in disbelief.  It was an opulent
bedroom, with a king sized canopy bed, a dresser, full sized mirror,
paintings on the walls, a grandfather clock in the corner, and the
strangest of all, a petite maid waiting patiently at the foot of the bed.
The maid curtsied politely, spreading her dress out slightly.  She was
dressed as an English maid, conservatively with a high-buttoned collar and
a white, bibbed apron across the front.  "Good morning, mom," greeted the
maid.  Her accent was thickly English, and her "ma'am" sounded like mom to
Kat's American ears.  "Your bath is ready." She motioned to an open door to
the right, and through it, Kat could see an old-fashioned claw footed
bathtub, steaming with hot water and pink bubbles.  She glanced around,
then down at herself.  "We took the liberty of cleaning you up, mom.  I
hope you don't mind." She curtsied again, and then helped Kat get out of
bed.  Kat noticed that she was wearing an old cotton nightgown that went to
her ankles and up to her neck, but she didn't spend too much time on it. 
She walked over to the bathroom, undressed, and stepped into the tub.  She
slowly sunk into the bubbles, gasping at the heat on her body.  Relaxing
finally, she took a deep breath and sighed.  A soft quartet, probably
Mozart, played on a stereo against the wall.  Holding her breath, Kat
immersed her entire body under the water, soaking her head and making sure
her hair was with her.  Coming back up, she wiped the water from her eyes
and looked around.  The maid had just finished making the bed, then walked
into the bathroom and grabbed a tray from the wall next to the door.  She
placed it next to the tub, then returned to the bedroom for more tidying
up. Kat looked at the tray.  It was covered in different, expensive
toiletries.  The first thing Kat did was wash her hair.  Thoroughly.  She
luxuriated as the shampoo tingled her scalp and soaked through every
strand. She was in heaven.  Every time the water started to cool off a bit,
the maid came back in and added more hot water.  Little drains around the
edges let the overflow out without spilling it over the tile floor.  Kat
shaved twice, washed every inch of herself with those little rose soaps,
and relaxed for over an hour before she pronounced herself clean.  The maid
attended to her with an oversized, super thick towel, helping to dry her
off, brush out her hair, and even gave her shoulders a quick rub.  The maid
then opened a second door in the bathroom, this one to a closet filled with
clothes.  Kat walked over and picked out a pretty sundress that she thought
would bring out her eyes, then, returning to the bedroom, she found a
selection of undergarments laid out upon the bed.  She chose a comfortable
white cotton bra and matching panties, got dressed, and found a pair of
sandals that matched her dress next to the door across from the foot of the
bed.  Finally, when she was ready, the maid led her out of the door into a
dining room.  It was spacious, but not overly large, with one long wooden
dining table in the center.  At the far end of the table, Mr.  Nielson
stood up and came around.  Pulling out the chair at the near end, he
motioned Kat to sit.  As she did, he helped her to scoot closer to the
table, then shook out the cloth napkin for her.  "Thank you, Ms.  Rebecca.
That is all.  Would you be so kind as to let the chef know that our guest
is here?  Thank you." The maid curtsied, turned, and left.  Mr.  Nielson
returned to the far end of the table and sat down.  "Good morning, Ms. 
Duke.  I hope that you slept well." Kat was taken aback.  This was supposed
to be the fifth day, wasn't it?  What was going on.  "Yes...I did.  Um...If
you don't mind me asking, what is this about?" "I will explain in a moment,
but for now, you must be starving.  Behind her, a man in a white chef's hat
had entered with a covered dish.  He placed it in front of Kat and removed
the lid with a flourish.  Inside was a dish piled high with pancakes,
bacon, sausage, eggs, toast and jam, steak, ham, grapes, a slice of
cantaloupe, and half a grapefruit.  Another waiter came to her other side
and placed a glass of milk, one of tea, and orange juice, and placed them
on the table beyond the plate.  Kat looked hungrily at the plate, and then
looked up at Mr.  Nielson.  He nodded and she grabbed up the knife and
fork, diving into the food with a vengeance, only pausing to down the milk,
then drink deeply of the juice.  While she was doing this, Mr.  Nielson
began.  "Today, Ms.  Duke, is what we call the day of R and R.  It stands
for Recovery and Resolution.  The day is yours to do with as you please. 
The surrounding two-mile radius is closed off and private.  There is a
forest with some trails, a lake and stream for boating or swimming, a lodge
with a large TV, game room, and library, and many other things.  This is
all set aside for you, to do with as you please." "I know what you have
been through, Ms.  Duke." His voice got serious.  "Every one of our MD's
went through the same trials as you did.  The scenarios might have been
slightly different, but I assure you, the..." He searched for the correct
word.  "...the power of the experience was the same." He took a sip of his
coffee.  "Everything you went through, absolutely everything, has been
requested at one time or another, in many cases multiple times, by
different members.  In order to be able to deal with these instances, you
have to be ready for them, and you have to be experienced.  You already
knew how to dominate, but you had never gone that far to the extreme
before. This week was about one thing.  Learning what kind of extreme
situations are out there, and what to expect.  You cannot describe the
feelings involved, or the experiences that the submissives want to put
themselves through.  You cannot tell people to do anything that you are not
willing to do yourself.  We believe that to our soul, but I can assure you
that your well being was our main concern.  You may not have known it, but
there was always an army of men waiting in case you should need them,
including the best doctors in the world.  You were always safe, if a little
uncomfortable." Kat had stopped eating, listening to the gentleman.  "What
about the embarrassment, the humiliation.  How am I supposed to deal with
that?" She was getting angry.  With all their supposed protection, how was
she supposed to show her face around the grounds anymore.  Everyone would
know what she was forced through, what she did.  "That was also part of the
consideration that was provided for you.  The entire week, you were under a
solid black situation.  Everyone, and I do mean EVERYONE who saw you is a
member of staff, and they are not allowed to utter a single word of what
they witnessed.  None of them knew your name, and none of them are allowed
to leave the black dot areas for other parts of the grounds.  Your
activities are secret, known only on the outside by myself.  The only
person that you came into contact with during the week that wasn't staff
was the woman in the box.  It was her party and she is the one who
requested it.  We were able to make use of the opportunity as part of your
experience, but she was blindfolded the entire time and never saw you.  I
promise that you are safe." Kat calmed a little, and resumed eating.  After
she was finished, she cleaned her mouth with the napkin.  "The rest of the
day is yours." Mr.  Nielson stood up.  "Later this afternoon, I will return
for a final meeting, and then you will be on your way.  The final decision
will be made then." He made to leave but she spoke up.  "Mr.  Nielson, if
you would...I would like you to stay.  I don't feel like being alone for
now, and I would appreciate your company." The man paused in mid step. 
Turning around slowly, he looked at her.  There was a look of surprise on
his face.  Taking a deep breath, clearing his throat and straightening his
tie, he said, "Are you sure, ma'am?  Most would prefer to be alone,
despising my presence." "Why is that?" she asked.  "Because, ma'am, I am
the last face seen before it starts, and one of the first afterwards.  I am
often seen as the instigator and the cause of great pain and suffering.  I
am not, of course, but that is part of my position here, and I must bear
it." "There is a feeling of slight resentment towards you, but logically, I
know you were just doing your job.  I would appreciate it if you would
please join me, though," she said as a slight, hopeful smile went across
her lips.  Mr.  Nielson thought about it for a long moment, then nodded. 
She took his proffered arm and led him out to the stone patio, down the
steps, and the two started to stroll down the forest path in front of them.
The walked slowly, admiring the view, and Kat talked.  He was a perfect
gentleman and exactly what she needed.  He paid attention to her as she
talked, asked questions when appropriate, and generally listened to all she
had to say.  She found herself rambling on a few occasions, but it seemed
that he was genuinely interested.  They strolled along the path, and it
ended at a dock on a lake.  As she watched, Mr.  Nielson removed his jacket
and attended to the small sailboat that was tied up.  He readied it, and
then led her on board, then he returned to take in the slips, and they
began a lazy tour of the lake.  She continued to talk as he sailed, and
they enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere.  Then she started telling a joke.  It
was a stupid joke, one that a ten year old wouldn't laugh at, but Kat
started to.  She couldn't stop, and soon the laughter turned to sobs.  All
the emotion of the last few days broke through her, enveloping her in wave
after wave of emotion.  She couldn't help herself.  She cried and cried. 
He immediately dropped the anchor and the boat drifted to a slow stop.  He
moved over to her and she pressed her head against her chest.  Holding each
other, they sat there.  She cried for over half an hour as he smoothed her
hair and held her tight.  He never let go, never interrupted, never shushed
her.  He just held her.  As her sobs faded, he kissed her on the forehead,
whispering to her, "It'll be alright." She hugged him tighter and held him
there, wanting to be with someone who didn't want anything from her.  They
sat there, holding each other as he comforted her.  Finally, when he kissed
her forehead again, she looked up at him.  He looked down, and, as he did,
she moved up and kissed him.  She reached up and touched his cheek, and the
kiss went deep inside of her, sparking her body in response.  More and
more, she pressed against him, holding him, wanting him, needing him.  He
was perfect.  He laid her down upon the floor and looked at her in
admiration.  Ever so slowly, with soft, careful movements, he undressed
her. She was the object of attention, but in a way that said she was in
charge.  He took his time, making sure that she was always the center of
attention.  Again and again, he pleased her, always there, always
passionate, always caring.  She needed to be made love to, and he did
everything, worshipping her devoutly.  Back on the forest path, they
strolled.  She had her head on his shoulder and he held her arm in his,
placing his other hand on hers, hers again on his.  "What's your first
name?" she asked, dreamily.  The answer was a long time in coming, but
finally, "Paul." "Paul," she repeated.  She smiled and patted his hand. 
"Thank you, Paul." "You are most welcome, Ms.  Duke," he replied.  She
lifted her head at this and stared at him.  "Please, call me Kat.  It is
what everyone calls me." He paused in the path, looking at her.  Still
holding her hand, he made a request.  "I am sorry.  Both my upbringing and
my position prevent me from doing so.  However, if I may...I would like to
call you Kathryn." He looked at her expectantly.  She thought about it for
a moment.  No one called her Kathryn, not even her mother.  She nodded. 
That would be his name for her, his own private name.  They continued along
the path.  Before long, the shadows grew longer, and they came upon an open
glade.  In the middle of the glade stood a white marble podium with a
purple silk pillow on top.  Kathryn wanted to walk to it, but Paul held her
back for a moment.  "This is the final decision.  As before, Yes or No, the
decision is yours." He walked her over to the podium.  There, on the
pillow, were two rings.  Kathryn saw her original Club ring on the left,
while on the right was a ring with an identical emblem on it.  The only
difference between the two was that the new ring was encircled by a small
outline of marble, the top half white, the bottom half black.  Kathryn
looked up at Paul questioningly.  "The choice you must make is this.  You
can return to your previous life, no one knowing what you went through, and
enjoying all that that has to offer, or you can accept your new rank. 
Others of that rank have been through similar ordeals, but no one will know
what you did.  You will be granted the extra rank and privileges that are
inherent in the rank, and you will be able to participate in that which you
were denied before.  The question is, do you accept the responsibility, the
charge of control of those who may very well put their very lives in your
hand?  It is yours alone to decide." Paul stepped back, giving her room as
she thought.  Kathryn looked from one ring to the other.  Biting her lip,
she wondered if she trusted herself to be worthy enough.  She debated
whether she even wanted the responsibility any more, after what she had
been through.  Finally she made her decision.  Biting her bottom lip, she
reached out and carefully picked up the