More Lessons for Laura

More Lessons for Laura

Copyright © 2013 by Mia Savage.

Edited by Sharazade for 1001 Nights Press. Cover design by
CoverDomme.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be
reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in
any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or
otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands,
media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are
used fictitiously.

Adult Content Warning

This story contains sexually explicit acts involving
consenting adults. It is not intended for minors under the age of eighteen.

More Lessons for Laura

~~~ Prologue ~~~

Just as Laura Harrington was about
to give up on the failing bookstore she’d inherited and return to the unfulfilling
professional and personal life she had placed on terminal hold, a tall
mysterious woman walked in and consumed her body and soul.

Laura soon learned there was much more to the relationship
and the woman than she’d imagined. As she became captivated by the knowledge of
what it was she wanted, she also found everything she needed. She struggled to
accept that this woman was very different and expected a level of commitment
far beyond Laura’s previous encounters. Her physical desire still fights a fierce
battle with her emotional acceptance of what she is becoming, but following her
heart would certainly be what’s best for her in the end.

Fighting to maintain control over both her passion and her
independence teaches Laura to look deeper at who she really is. As she discovers
her true self, she grows more comfortable with her submission and her strength
in all areas of her life. Her confidence and ability to accept what makes her
truly happy has built with each former lesson; and what she learns next will
require the inner strength and commitment she and her Master both know burns
just below the surface.

~~~ 1 ~~~

From the very first look into those
dark captivating eyes, I’d been intrigued by her quiet strength. Not as much
the physical – obvious in her fit frame and assertive manner – but
by an unspoken command of her surroundings and anyone that dared linger within.

I wasn’t sure anymore if I pursued her or if she slowly drew
me in by the very nature of her aloofness and my desire to discover what was
behind her intensity. As each layer unfolded, my craving to be with her only
grew stronger. She wasn’t my typical choice of lover. Dinner and going to
movies and sleeping in on Sunday mornings were unusual encounters with her. I
would often wake to find her gone. But there was more to this; more than I want
to admit aloud. Her ways were different and strange to me. I had never been with
anyone that required – or, should I say, demanded – that I behave
in a particular way. I was strongly independent on my own, but when she was
present I bent to her will. It felt bizarre and exciting at the same time. My
mind and body often disagreed on the extent of my willingness to conform, but
she quickly gained the ground needed to bring me back to her desired compliance
… and I let her.

Her
lessons
, as
she called them, had been difficult at times, and I resisted some of her
physical and emotional demands – but only to the point she allowed. I
challenged her with my own stubborn will by resisting her command, trying to regain
the control I felt slipping through my fingers; patience still was not one of
my better qualities. Her hand was always swift when I failed to show the proper
restraint. Realizing her limits should have curbed my insolence, but somehow I
managed to dismiss the knowledge of her inevitable response.

Was it rational for a grown woman to be spanked for her
behavior or for me to allow her to dictate my behavior at all? Could I ever go
back to a relationship with someone that just didn’t care how I dressed or
where I spent my time or even when I was allowed to satisfy my own sexual
cravings? Did I need – or even want – to ‘go back’ at all anymore?

I wanted to understand my need. Too much of my time was
spent trying to convince myself this wasn’t what I wanted, trying to work up a
logical
excuse for breaking it off
with her. Just as I built the strength and momentum to push forward, her voice
or the sight of her walking through the door instantly extinguished my will to
refuse her anything. My body surrendered to her even as my mind struggled to
keep up with the reasons.

She had me captured again, offering yet another lesson I could
never have imagined, each one teaching me to face my deepest fears and
boundaries – boundaries I crossed kicking and screaming most of the time.
I’d thought that being placed on display and allowing someone else to punish me
as she watched was the worst thing I could have imagined; yet somehow I made it
through and came out stronger and more willing to explore how deep I would
allow her to take me.

Lesson One

Waiting for her was the hardest
thing; and I waited a lot. I knelt there on the old wooden floor between the
tall shelves full of ancient witnesses, old friends and memories held in each
edition of the classics I’d grown up reading. Pure lust swirled through my body
while I looked into my past. The large clock above my desk ticking the seconds
only enhanced my anxious, regrettable impatience. I intentionally positioned
myself with my back to it.

Her call came more than three hours earlier informing me
exactly how to prepare myself for her. She expected her very particular set of
standards to be followed exactly – as exactly as I understood them, at
least. My interpretation, though, was not always correct.

My body was in the perfect position for waiting, comfortable
with my hands in my lap. My ass rested on my heels and I was wearing only her
favorite scent and the black leather collar she’d introduced when she informed
me I would be her pet whenever she felt the need for silent companionship. The
collar request was my indicator that I would not be allowed to speak to her
until she removed it herself. She kept the leash in her possession and attached
it to the collar only when she required me to move with her from one place to
another.

I would never have imagined myself in this position. My
normal personality was bold and assertive, and her demands were a constant
challenge – but I craved her touch and her attention. I wanted her to
tell me what to do and how to behave, so the outcome for everything didn’t rest
solely on my shoulders. She’d made it clear early on that if I was going to
commit, it would have to be fully. “Fully” meant undivided attention to her
requirements; and she would enjoy me in any manner she chose. She also informed
me that I always had the final choice. Any resistance was overruled by my
uncontrollable attraction and desire to please her.

The old brass bell on the door of the bookstore instantly silenced
the ramble in my head. Her footsteps approached slowly, and I closed my eyes to
enhance the anticipation as my heart synchronized with the cadence of her boots
on the floor. My back straightened and I lifted myself into the erect,
respectful position I knew she expected to see when she rounded the corner.

“Hello, my pet.” She placed her hand gently on top of my
head and patted it.

My eyes opened and she was standing in front of me. Her
voice sent the first sparks, and then being eye level with the bulge in her
pants ignited the smoldering flame. My pussy pulsed as she hooked the leash to
the collar and knelt down to run her long icy fingers between my perfectly
parted legs. She scooped in with two fingers and the chill contrasted with the
hot fluid awaiting her. She slipped inside me, then up to the tight pulsing
throb that upon contact caused a convulsive flash to shake my perfect pose. My
moan escaped and she brought her warm wet fingers up to my lips and pressed my
scent to them.

“Not a sound, my pet.”

I wanted her so badly I could feel the desire drip down my
legs now that she had released me. She stood with the lead in her hand and
walked toward the stairs to my apartment. I followed behind her like the
obedient little animal she had turned me into. Once inside she dropped the
leash and expected me to stay with her until I was told otherwise. After
pouring a drink, she settled in the old leather chair.

“Sit.
”

 
This sent me
back to the same position in which I’d waited for the past two hours. She
picked up her book from the side table and began quietly reading as if she were
alone. I watched her in spite of my knowledge she would disapprove. My eyes should
have been down; but it wasn’t like she was paying attention anyway. Looking at
her was a privilege, so if caught I would face her delicious wrath.
Sometimes being bad was worth it
. I
remained silent as expected, while plotting in my head. I did want to be good
and patient and tolerant of her need… but I was growing tired of waiting. Page
after page she turned, never looking at me or even acknowledging that I was
just inches from her, naked and waiting.

My back stiffened and my legs cramped from being folded
under me for yet another hour at least. I could no longer contain my
frustration, and I shifted deliberately and let out a belligerent breath. She finally
looked up from her book and I froze instantly as my eyes met her gaze.

“Honestly, Laura, are you going to challenge me tonight?”

Why could I not just sit quietly and wait? Why could I not
do as she asked? The reward would come soon enough, but I didn’t seem to be
built that way. I continued to look directly into her eyes, in spite of what
was expected of me. Her power surged through me as I lowered my head to the
correct position, thinking,
I want her
and she wants to read
. She placed her book back on the table, Picked up the
leash hanging from my collar, and stood. I followed her across the room. My
heart pounded in anticipation. At least she was paying attention to me, and
even being taken across her knee was better than being ignored.

All I wanted was for her to touch me – whatever manner
she chose was fine with me. She stopped just before my bedroom door. I was
facing the wall. This time she did not give the ‘sit’ command.

“Stay.”

I was left on all fours with my ass facing the chair, to
which she returned. Frustration filled me because I knew my punishment was not
at all what I anticipated. Now I didn’t even have the opportunity to look at her.
After another long wait of regretting my attempt to try to control the outcome,
I heard her footsteps behind me. I waited for her to decide my fate. This time
I remained perfectly still, careful not to breathe too heavily or show any
impatience in my position. My body tightened, anticipating her approach.

Would I now be punished or rewarded? Either would be acceptable
after so long on my aching knees. I never felt her particular enjoyment in
punishing me, but I always felt her satisfaction when she was sure it was
needed. I, on the other hand, felt the purest love when she cared enough to
correct me. She continued past me into the bedroom, and I heard the bathroom
door close behind her. She returned a very short time later and sat back in the
chair. Just as my head was about to explode I heard her voice.

“Laura, come over here.”

I would have normally responded with
Yes, master
, but with the collar on I could only show respect by my
physical reaction. I gave her a good view before I turned and crawled toward
her slowly. I knew how to seduce her regardless of her intensions. I stopped at
the edge of the chair, directly in front of her, and awaited her next command.
Sitting forward, she placed her hand on the back of my head. Stroking softly at
first, she then curled her fingers in my hair and pulled my head back so that I
looked at her.

“You are incorrigible, woman.” She stared into my eyes.
“Just when I think you understand your position, you challenge me again. Do you
enjoy being punished?”

I wanted to tell her. I wanted her to know, but I could only
look at her. Speaking wasn’t allowed; so why was she asking me questions she
knew I couldn’t answer? Maybe she really didn’t want the answer; or maybe she
already knew what it was. If I enjoyed it, what would be the point? She held my
hair tightly with one hand while she unbuttoned and opened her jeans with the
other. I tried to look down and she jerked my attention back up to her face.