Laura learns more...

~~~ Prologue ~~~

Just as Laura Harington 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.


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.

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