Lessons for Laura

by Savage, Mia

  There was a marble cube in front of me, and a naked woman stood beside it with a small folding step stool. It was placed on the floor. The young woman tucked her hands in the small of her back and bowed her head, waiting.

  I understood the request; however, the motion required to act on it didn’t come. I felt paralyzed. She held her hand out palm up to assist me. “I can’t do this… I can’t let all these people look at… ”

  She moved in close to whisper in my ear.

  “You will stand here perfectly still and calm until I come back for you.” She squeezed my hand hard to emphasize her words. “Now step up.”

  Unable to move in any direction, I stood consumed by the swirl of twisted emotions. I shivered as she physically moved me to the first step.

  “Now is not the time to challenge me, Laura.” Her hiss in my ear encouraged me to the next step. As I reached the top, I felt as if the ground had been pulled from under me and the small surface beneath my feet was an island on which I was now stranded. The weight of the heavy chain dress pulled as it draped off the block behind me, like an anchor to hold me there. The stool was removed and disappeared in the crowd mingling close.

  A loving little squeeze of my hand still in hers drew my undivided attention down to her face. “Do not speak or make eye contact. Stand perfectly still, no matter what, and do not disappoint me.”

  She slipped out of my blurry vision as a hot tear rolled down my cheek. The thick sea of faces below me faded into my panic. I felt like I was going to fall; my head floated and the room spun around me. I found my center and my focal point: a painting on the far wall of a woman from many centuries ago in very much the same position I found myself in. She became my strength. I tried to calm myself by first controlling my breathing. When I was aware of the rise and fall of my own chest, my eyes opened to stop the spin. I checked my posture and resolved myself to the shame. The rumble of their voices started to clear.

  “Exquisite and beautiful. Long sexy lines.”

  They circled and studied me as if unaware I could both see and hear them.

  I stood there on display and awash with humiliation for my exposure, mixed now with a twinge of pride.

  The whispers behind me were the hardest to take. They discussed the shape and curve of my ass.

  “I prefer a plumper bottom—paddles nicer.”

  “No, this one is quite nice, and knowing who she belongs to, I’m sure it takes the paddle very well.”

  I wanted to scream, I don’t belong to anyone! Yet I stood there in front of complete strangers, exposing everything, because she had told me to. My body trembled from the inside. I was sure it showed. A slow deep breath in; then I let it go. My eyes were glued to the woman in the portrait. My body rebelled against the stillness and twitched in disobedience. Trying desperately to ignore my anguish, I fought movement and the urge to scratch the rambling itch that persisted to test me.

  Perfectly still. Do not disappoint. Her words echoed in my head. I tuned the spectators’ comments out by concentrating on the face in the portrait. I tried to read the slight twist of her lips. She wore nothing, yet she modeled proudly for that portrait of femininity.

  Would I ever know her contentment with her body?

  I shifted my eyes to sneak a look as far as I could see without turning my head. I was not the only one on display in this strange gallery. Other women stood on platforms like mine.

  Was this Humility 101?

  I felt a firm pinch on my ass. “Yes, it’s tighter than it looks.”

  Without thinking I whipped my head around, and just before my mouth exploded, I caught her attention from across the room. She projected her displeasure in a single stern look, and I turned back to my focal point and worked hard to steady my posture.

  Time crept. I found it harder to keep my body still. Cramps in my legs caused me to shift from side to side. Squeals of pain and moans of pleasure permeated the ballroom. I stood in fear of my inclusion and pity of my exclusion.

  She stood talking with a striking older woman directly under my painting. My eyes shifted quickly. I could hear her laughter. I watched until she looked directly back at me and shook her head ever so slightly from side to side to let me know that my insolence had not gone unnoticed.

  Why can’t I just stand here like she asked?

  The unsatisfied stare made me focus on her alone. All the comments fell away, and she was the one I now displayed myself for. My position became soft and erect; I pushed my breasts upward and my hips proudly, presenting my finest details to her. The pain my body was suffering from the long-held position washed with a flood of desire for her.

  Now about that itch.

  Suddenly her voice came into focus, and I instinctively turned toward it. She stood just a few feet away with the other woman, her presence strong and her drawing gaze irresistible. I looked directly into her eyes before I could remember my instructions. I scanned the two faces.

  I might as well see it coming.

  They both smiled and leaned in close to speak only to one another, never taking their possessive eyes off me.

  The two of them glanced at the onlookers, who formed a wider circle around us. I turned my neck for the first time in hours to try to see what was happening. Now all eyes were turned in on me at the same time. My heart pounded and I felt trapped by my own fear and confusion. The spectators got very quiet. I looked down to the faces now amused by my animation as I turned a full circle to find my escape.

  I heard a whooosh slice through the air behind me and then a sharp crack. I turned quickly to the sound. A scream from the pedestal to my right penetrated the low hum that had taken the room. I whipped my head around, and there she stood, proudly holding the long whip that recoiled at her feet.

  Jumping the three feet to the floor would be the easy part. But after that, where could I possibly go? I regained my composure and refocused my gaze on the woman in the painting and waited… and waited. My body flinched at the crack and scream of each of the targets standing in the path that led directly to me.

  The crowd raised the encouragement as I silently counted down to the inevitable outcome.

  She’s directly behind me.

  Silent screams filled my head while hot tears flowed out of my closed eyes. I stopped breathing all together. I wanted to look. I needed to look. A hand took mine, unfamiliar but warm. The tug pulled downward, and I was forced to open my eyes to maintain balance. Looking directly into cool gray pools of danger started my heart again.

  “Hello, Laura. Welcome to my home. I have spared you the whip tonight; however, I’m afraid your curious enticing eyes have betrayed you.” Her kiss lay soft on my flushed cheek.

  I stood back up, puzzled by her comment. “Enjoy your delicious punishment, my dear. I certainly will.” She snapped her finger and the steps were placed at my pedestal.

  Why was I spared? What “punishment”?

  Her hand offered balance for my descent. I stood flat-footed in front of her in what I hoped was perfect form. The shame of my public nudity had long since passed, and I stood almost proud to have been noticed and spared by this Mistress. I watched as the crowd circled in closer. I performed only for her, knowing she was watching me from somewhere out of my range of vision.

  The Mistress had my hand in hers and turned me quickly facing the pedestal. She gripped the back of my neck with her other hand. I was forced forward and bent over the same insufferable object I had stood on for hours.

  My chest pounded against the cold marble base while the crimped chains pinched my skin. Her hand released my neck and slid slowly down my back to my waist and then across my ass. The chains served only as speed bumps along her journey. My right arm was pulled to the middle of my back and then my left. She held them together and leaned over me to speak.

  “Do not move your hands from this position. Do you understand?”

  I nodded my head quickly in agreement. She squeezed my wrists painfully. “‘Yes, Mistress’ is the proper
response. Do you understand?”

  I nodded my head again and answered, “Yes, Mistress.”

  She squeezed tighter yet. “Never shake your head at me. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Mistress,” I replied, without movement this time.

  My wrists were released as she stood close behind me. Her warmth engulfed my skin. I stood there bent over with my ass exposed to all in viewing range as she stood by allowing it. Humiliation flooded back into my consciousness.

  Was I sure I could do this? Was I sure I wanted to?

  I felt a sharp sting land across my ass, fast and firm. It lingered, and before I could exhale, I felt another. The same indistinguishable path as the first, and the chains bit into my flesh. Another landed and the sound resonated in my head.

  A flush raced hot across my face. My stomach tightened, nauseous, but my clit throbbed. My body craved the pain while my heart stubbornly resisted its captivity.

  Suddenly awareness the strikes had stopped caught up to my churning head. The dizzying unexpected rise of my body back to my feet quieted my pleas. I stood shaking, overwhelmed by the sudden awakening of my own vulnerability.

  I could feel her desire spark at my skin, her breath hot and moist on my neck, her hand tangled tightly in my hair, and her power over my will. She softly kissed my damp hot tear-soaked cheek.

  “Did you enjoy your punishment, Laura?”

  My hesitation caused her to grip my hair harder. I felt frightened and at the same time exhilarated.

  I understood her warning as she pulled me against her.

  “Yes, Mistress.” A whisper of reluctance to comply.

  “You must respond quicker, Laura.” She tightened her hold on my hair and bent me over again.

  “Yes, Mistress,” I now blurted to save my further punishment.

  She snatched me back up and held me against her firmly planted frame. Her long reach placed her hand between my wet thighs. She spread her fingers, poking into my skin to force my legs apart for better access. I complied instantly. Her fingers dipped into my uninhibited betrayal to discover my dirty little secret.

  The seduction of my senses surrendered quickly to her control. I felt the vapor between my own legs rise as my heat permeated the air. The beads of sweat tickled the heightened sensitivity of my skin as gravity called them to crawl seductively down my body. I quivered at her invasion.

  She’s watching me. I know she’s watching me take pleasure from someone else.

  My release was left wanting, as I stood breathless to face my audience and my humiliation alone. The waves of desire were replaced again with shame as the leering faces came back into focus. I stood there confused.

  The back of her hand stroked my flushed cheek softly. “You did well for your first time, but you will get better with practice.”

  My first time?

  ~~~4~~~

  I snuggled into grandfather’s old leather chair for a nap I would appreciate later that evening. The apartment had a chill from the open windows; the sensation across my skin reminded me how much I missed her touch. I was being punished with abstinence for my willfulness in a recent session.

  Even my dreams were starting to torment my will to comply with her chastity rules. Waking up wet and fighting the urge to hide in my closet to relieve my insatiable need nearly drove me mad. Instead, large red X’s marked my calendar to mark progress toward the end of my suffering.

  I stood ready in the middle of the floor long before she was expected. My heart pounded when I heard an approaching vehicle. The hands on the large clock over the door moved loudly, ticking to my insanity as the hour approached far too slowly. She was never late and rarely early, so I waited. The roar of her Harley and the scream of its brakes brought my body to a perfect erect position.

  I was waiting in tight black jeans tucked into the high leather boots at her request. My breasts plunged forward, concealed just enough to tease between the lapels of the red leather jacket tailored to fit me like the black leather and fishnet gloves that finished the look. Still, my satisfaction was purely dependent on my own behavior that evening.

  Be good, Laura, you can’t take this much longer.

  Lesson Four

  I watched as she pulled a long black silky scarf from the inside pocket of her black leather jacket. It was placed over my eyes and wrapped again to increase its thickness and then tied behind my head. She kissed me passionately while my hands were allowed to run along her strong back and pull her in closer to me. The kiss was deep and rough. Even without the knowledge of her expression, I knew her disposition.

  Her hands moved over me with vigor. She proved by her grope that she too had suffered our separation.

  “Have you been a good girl, Laura?”

  “Yes.” I answered her quickly. My only intention right then was satisfaction. Hers and mine.

  She placed her hand on my back and led me to the curb where her bike awaited us. She helped me position myself behind her and we sped away.

  Facing directly ahead, as if I could see where she was taking me, the ride had a different feel without the warning of subtle changes in direction or signs of obstacles. I held tight through the hard stops and quick starts she executed expertly. I heard very clearly the city disappear behind us.

  The familiar gravel driveway to her house surprised me. She rarely took me there. I waited for her to get off the bike and then reached for her hand, anticipating it would be there in my darkness. With her lead I paced my unfamiliar steps through the dark maze confusing my memory of the layout of her house.

  We stopped and she let go of me, leaving me standing unaware of my surroundings or her position in the room. I listened for her. The quiet was intense. No noise at all. The space felt large and vacant, but I couldn’t be sure. The darkness and silence caused my breathing to increase, and then I heard her move behind me. I inhaled deeply.

  “Are you there?” I asked as I reached out into the air around me. I turned in the direction of the last sound.

  She moved slowly back toward me, circling several times and stopped close behind. Feeling her appetite sustained my sanity. I simmered on a slow burn of fear and delight.

  She released the single button on my jacket and slid it off my shoulders from behind. My heart struck my chest as her fingers tenderly brushed my bare back. The icy tips slid down and then followed my waist around, raising goose bumps on my hot skin. Her breath blew across my ear while she released the large silver buckle and pulled the thin leather of my belt from its loops. I felt my wrists behind me suddenly tethered by my own belt. The cold buckle pressed into my back.

  I melted against her and tried to express my desire to please her. She stood by and allowed me, to the best of my ability, to blindly seduce her body. I rubbed my breasts and my still jean-clad pussy into her, hoping for the slightest response. She held strong, unresponsive to my all but humping her leg. I exhausted myself trying to get her to touch me. I stood back and obviously expressed my frustration.

  “Are you finished?” Her tone almost amused.

  A smile on her lips, I was sure.

  My legs were wobbly. I felt her tight grip on both of my upper arms. Her demand for steadiness was felt throughout my body. I fought for balance and control of my emotions as well as the stance she demanded. When I settled to a perfect pose, I felt the sharp jerk of my hair. I leaned firm against her left shoulder, my neck stretched back. I felt her breath on my face and her hand on my throat.

  Would I appreciate this experience more if I could see her loving face?

  “Remember what we discussed?”

  I pushed my eagerness into her as a response. I was ready to give her everything she desired.

  “Answer me.” She tightened her grip.

  “Yes,” I answered, a bit of defiance in my voice from my long wait for her to award me pleasure.

  She pushed me back up to my own stability.

  “You are a challenge, Laura.”

  “Isn’t that what keeps y
ou coming back?” The words poured out of my mouth before my brain could stop them.

  I felt a sharp sting land across my ass; fast and firm, the hard flat surface stung right through the denim. It lingered and before I could exhale, I felt another. The same indistinguishable path as the first, and the fire deepened. Another landed and the sound resonated in my head. The tight pants held the rage to me.

  My foolishness escaped again. I cried out, “Stop!” and then stepped away from her.

  I had been warned. I had been given a word that would stop her.

  I had a choice. Or did I?

  She jerked me back hard by my hair still tangled in her hand. I was turned and led forward a few inescapable steps and then thrust hard over a cold firm… something.

  My hands were tied behind me, helpless to prevent my forward momentum. She won’t let me fall. My breath caught as I hung by my hips with my feet on one side and my head dangling, dizzy, on the other. My toes stretched downward to balance myself, backside thrust into the air. I struggled with my position and squeezed my legs together tightly. She landed another sharp blow and then another.

  “Stop… please, stop,” I pleaded.

  Over and over again I pleaded as the burn penetrated the deepest parts of me. Angry tears saturate the cloth concealing my weakness. The word swirled in my head, and I screamed it silently. My stomach tightened and my head pounded, but my desire craved the pain.

  “Please… ” I sobbed aloud. “Please… please.”

  When she was well pleased with my suffering, she stopped. She brought me back to upright quickly and steadied me until my balance settled. She led me stumbling across the floor, weak and timid, unsure of my path in the darkness. I trusted her hands to guide me. Words were not necessary. I understood her gestures as surely as I did that first night she had placed her hand firmly in the small of my back and led me into her bedroom, even after I refused her request, twice.

  When she let go, I shivered and dropped my shoulders to breathe deeply. She cleared her throat. I stiffened my stance again quickly. I could hear only the pounding of my own heart as the room went quiet again.