Table

of Contents
Chapter 1 New Beginnings Chapter 2 Reflections Chapter 3 Back In School Chapter 4 The Day Before Our Meeting Chapter 5 The Appointment With My

Professor

Sabrina's Surrender by Laura Westor

PUBLISHED BY: Laura Westor Copyright 2012 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or

otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.

About the Author Laura Westor writing relationships enjoys about and

exploring the feminine and masculine psychology involved in intimacy.

Chapter 1 New Beginnings Since my divorce, I've felt lost. The marriage lasted five years and the last three years were very lifeless for me. My exhusband, Joey, became so predictable to me. I knew what he'd say as we

watched various tv shows, how he'd react to the comments of the judges on American Idol, what he'd order when we went out to the Chestnut Diner for a weekend meal and exactly the way he'd cut off the phone calls with his mom abruptly. I hated to see him as mechanical,

but he appeared that way to me. I also know that I had my own boring routines, mannerisms and habitual forms of behavior. But, that was only in rare moments of self-honesty. Generally, I blamed him for why our lives were dull and I thought Joey was very

inflexible. Why did he get so tired after work all the time? Couldn't we at least get to a Starbucks or cafe during the week? We were only in our twenties, but I was worried that we'd be buried alive by our repeated patterns. Sure,

we jogged and we didn't use walkers, but I felt that we were similar to my Aunt Ray and Uncle Tom who were in their 80s. How could our lives have become so encrusted? I was able to mentally anticipate how Joey would answer most things I asked him. I grew tired

of our love making during last three years because each time was so similar. We would try to spice things up at times. It didn't seem to help, because despite all the variations, my heart was not in it. I was adding lingerie, changing fragrances and using new

toys but things were still flat. The passion wasn't there for me and using candles, perfumes and wine wasn't the answer. Passion can't be stimulated by something external but has to flow from the magical connection between two people.

The spark wasn't really very strong between us even at the beginning when I was twenty and Joey was twenty four. I was very security focused and Joey helped me to feel safe. He had his own business where he would repair computers and had no financial stress. People

freak out when there are problems with the computer due to viruses or adware. Joey could fix the problems that appeared due to teenagers picking up malware when surfing game sites or someone in the family watching porn. He helped me financially with my

tuition for my last two years of college. My parents felt that my brother and I should put ourselves through college on our own and I wouldn't have finished my education otherwise. This really is awful, to want security at such a young age. I know it wasn't fair

to him, since he was a nice guy. I knew financial stability was not a good reason to stay married, but I was scared. I felt guilty because I had some fantasies about my creative writing professor during the first year Joey paid for my schooling. I

had an appointment with my teacher to review my short story and I kept imaging that his thumb was caressing my clit. My professor, Dr. Raskin, was in his forties and was not being flirtatious. But, the mastery of his words and his gentle guidance created an inner craving

inside me. This surprised me because guys in their forties usually seemed too old for me. Nothing romantic happened between us, but I felt a joy inside that my life could have vibrancy once again. I wasn't frozen, but just

in a rut. The command of language, his ability to refine and improve my writing and the intelligence was such a turn on. I didn't feel around Joey that I could rely on him for this type of intellectual and creative connection. My sexuality then went

underground and was repressed again, but I knew that the seed was planted there and could be reactivated . This meeting with Dr. Raskin happened after things were deteriorating with Joey. But, I buried that strong arousal and continued in my lifeless

marriage a bit longer. At the time, I knew that Dr. Raskin's touch would send me soaring and beyond my ordinary boundaries. Now, the divorce was finalized and I kept wondering why my life was in this predicament.

What happened to my sexuality? I was always flirtatious when I was younger. But, during the last few years of my marriage, I seemed to only think about balancing the checkbook, planning my teaching lessons and food shopping. My whole life

just seemed to be preparing for something else. But what was the point of always preparing? It was only getting ready for something else I didn't really want to do. Would I always be trying to "get ready" and never actually live? Even during the

weekends I was not "living". I was thinking about the lunch to pack on Monday, calls I had to return and supplies needed to supplement the classroom due to budget cuts. Each day had so many requirements just to live. I was choking with all that needed to be done

from pumping gas to paying the electric bill to picking up my dry cleaning. I felt that I was missing out on the deep bliss I knew I could feel with a man. I enjoy teaching third grade, but feared I would always stay single and

end up like Mrs. Stone. Mrs. Stone taught fifth grade and had also divorced in her twenties. She was now fifty two and she has not found another significant relationship. On the weekends she'd meet her best friend for dinner at the Olive Garden or a

different Italian restaurant on Friday nights. On Saturday nights Mrs. Stone would go to the movies, play or concert with a second friend that was widowed. It wasn't a completely empty life, but there was something dead about it to me. Was that going to

be my future? Would I just be pretending to enjoy myself while yearning for a real man? During the lunch break Wednesday at the school where I teach, I had a recollection that I had forgotten about for years. In the summer before 9th

grade, I was changing to a new school. I begged my mom to let me wear one of the dresses we bought in early August in preparation for the new semester because we were going to a party for my cousin's birthday. I felt great in this dress and my confidence was so high.

My cousin's neighbor, Steven, who was around 18 or 19 years old checked me out and I liked knowing that I had some power over a guy. I was shy, but I kept physically placing my body near his so that he'd see my budding breasts and smell my shampoo.

 I asked Steven to explain a news story that was on my phone which was over my head. I knew my strength was in having a man feel his own strength and my dependency on him. And I was really soft and helpless inside, even though I also manipulated things. I liked my

femininity and the way that he was in a teacher mode. We only saw each other that one time, but I fantasized that night mentally about him in my bed. I was too afraid to touch my own body. I didn't want my mom to abruptly come into my room and catch me. She

had the habit of just bursting into my room to tell me something. But it was still erotic to me to go into the fantasy mentally, though my fingers were too shy to move. I pictured myself asking Steven to explain how to

change a flat tire. I knew that he had just done that on his own car. He told me that you have to first lift the car up with a jack and then loosen the lug nuts with a wrench. I asked him if I would have the strength to do that. He then squeeze my bicep muscles to test them. As

he did that, I felt a little pulse in my clitoris. It was so warm and I was craving for his touch. I imagined him telling me that my arms could be too weak to turn the wrench. Then I felt his hands graze across my sweater and touch my small breasts. I felt myself lean

towards him as I yearned for his hands to cup my breasts. He stroked my right cheek with his index finger and gently kissed my lips as he firmly touched my breasts through my dress. He was experienced with cars and I knew he'd understand my body in the same way.

I also knew that boys my own age would just fumble around with the female body and be too childish. "Did you take my black shirt again?" My mom had burst into my room and my fantasy ended abruptly. I was startled by her and felt violated by the intrusion.

Why did she make my dream go away? I never did see Steven again as his family moved out of state. But, I had variations of this fantasy over the years. The man was always instructing me about something and older. He'd have

knowledge and I'd look up to him. I would be very shy, but also naughty by trying to distract him with a view of part of my breast or the outline of my butt in a short and tight skirt. I didn't know if I was innocent or a slut and I had no one to ask that question to.

I wasn't sure why this came back into my consciousness now. Was it a reaction to thinking about Mrs. Stone's fate? Could I feel again? Would I be able to keep the sizzle with a man? Maybe this was a sign that I was thawing out and I wouldn't be condemned

to the life that I saw ahead of me.

Chapter 2 Reflections Why do I feel like such a failure about my divorce? We just weren't compatible. Did I sell my soul to have a reliable man who could earn a living? None of the surrender fantasies I had were ever played out in

our intimate couplings. Joey was not someone that I could elevate and be overwhelmed by sexually. He was really my security blanket. There wasn't a strong masculinity about him and he was good at his computer business, but didn't have the depth I was seeking.

 Maybe it is really guilt and not failure. I didn't suggest marriage counseling when things were falling apart. I just allowed us to continue to keep drifting. Joey looked up to me for my intellectual abilities. Maybe the lack of reciprocal respect was

what was missing. With Professor Raskin, I knew I could really give myself fully. Is that the classical father figure syndrome? Joey was good with computers, but I just didn't feel I could ever melt into him. But, I'd be nervous to be

with a man like Professor Raskin. Even if he was single. I crave to be vulnerable with a man, but fear it too. He would feel my pulse. He would know that he has control despite my facade of inner strength at managing each day. I don't want a man to feel

my trembling, my cravings and my sense of powerlessness. But without that, could I really live? Will I always keep living the lie and appear to be the person who is confident about herself? I was sick of fooling people with this. I wanted a man to take me

and take me hard. I went jogging to clear my head and was surprised to see that so many of the leaves were orange and brown. Wow, I really had gotten lost this autumn and lost my sense of time. It was November and it seems I

missed the last few months of seasonal changes. I had mechanically bought the Halloween candy, but was living with a membrane. I was thinking about whether I should return to college in January parttime. Though my undergraduate degree was

completed and my teaching job fairly secure, I was thinking of getting my master's degree in literature. This would enable me to teach at a community college or online. I could start with one class in the winter semester and then expand. I felt a wave of hope, but

also some concerns because the other students would be younger than me a bit. But, there was a sense of something new emerging and I liked that. I was jogging in a country road in the town of Setauket on Long Island in Suffolk County. I lived

in Port Washington which was nearby. It's very close to the state university where excellent classes are offered. It was good feeling the energy of students also running in the neighborhood. The routine of work and my divorce reflections has pulled me down lately. I

only ran for thirty minutes and then stopped to stretch. I did a few yoga sun salutations which gave me a sense of gratitude. It is an awesome sequence as the spine gets to complete forward, backward and side stretches. I felt that my attitude shifted when I

jogged and stretched. Maybe this year will let me take a new leap. Taking a course could also be a way to get out of my social isolation. But, I never did well with female friends. There was always a lot of jealousy and tension.

Chapter 3 Back In School I enrolled at the local college for an English class that would start in the winter semester. There was an adjunct professor named Dr. Sherin who was teaching Popular Literature which

included both 19th and 20th century works. Some of the authors in the curriculum were D.H. Lawrence , Scott Fitzgerald, Jane Austen and Emily Bronte. It was a small class and the professor was very cute. He was in his forties and had beautiful hair. I liked

the way he listened to students. The level of attention was strong and he had a way of making each person feel special. We were assigned to do a mid-term paper and I decided to make an appointment with him to review my idea. I enjoyed Scott Fitzgerald and

wanted to write about the Great Gatsby . I felt a bit intimidated by him but also excited about our meeting. Dr. Sherin was very good looking but did not seem to have the ego that often went along with that. He was a bit of a hippy, with

hair longer than other professors and a disheveled look that was hot. I don't like arrogance in a man, but am intrigued when someone is reflective, caring and of course hot. Still, I have always been cursed by my shyness. I think I like professors because many

of them can understand how boring life is that consists of going to the mall, being on social media all day, reading popular magazines and having banal talks. I love the depth that is possible with intellectual conversations. They like the academic world and

the protection it provides. This was sorely lacking in my marriage with Joey and of course with the 3rd graders at my job. I was trying to figure out what to wear to the appointment with Dr. Sherin. I had an old bra that would show my

nipples through my blue thin blouse. Would that be too much? I didn't want him to see me as shallow, but I wanted to be able to read his response to me. I decided on a bra that was less revealing and would wear a pink sweater with a short black skirt, very

sheer stockings and black shoes with two inch thin heels. I could never wear that outfit at my job and I hadn't dressed up in months. Was he married , divorced or single? He did not disclose anything about his personal life in

the lectures. He smiled when I entered his office and I sat across from him at his messy desk. There were no family pictures on his desk, but he had some photographs of Cape Cod on his wall. I told him I brought my rough draft of the Great

Gatsby and was hoping he would review it. He seemed to not want to jump right away into reading it and asked me if I was enjoying the class. I said, "Yes, it is opening up my mind to new ways of interpreting books I've loved for years." Dr. Sherin seemed pleased by

that and asked me if I was also working. He could tell I was a bit older than the other students. I told him that I liked teaching young children, but missed reflective talks about life as well as the university atmosphere. I had my feet crossed at

the ankles and uncrossed them. Why was I so nervous around him? He glanced down and gave me a look of approval. Why I am so happy when I get a look of approval from an older man? Did he see how much this fulfilled me? He asked me if I also had children I

was raising. Was he fishing to see about my marital situation? I told him that I was divorced and with no children. Again, he half-smiled and I felt his satisfaction. He still did not disclose anything about himself, but had no wedding ring on and when I glanced

around the office could find no wall pictures or photos aside from the Cape Cod paintings. His attention was fully on me and I liked that. I told him that I recently saw the Woody Allen, "Midnight in Paris" and was fascinated by the

Fitzgeralds. "But I would never try to jump into the Seine river, " I blurted out. Then I turned red. Dr. Sherin said, "I can see you are not an impulsive person, Sabrina, but you do find Zelda fascinating, I believe." I got more nervous, but tried to act in control. I loved the way

he said my name. I pictured him whispering, "Sabrina, Sabrina, Sabrina," and slowly removing my bra. A text beep interrupted his penetrating glance into me and he looked down at his phone. I tried to remember to slow down my breathing and appear

calm. He frowned and said, "Damn, my mom's car stalled and I need to help her out. Can we reschedule our appointment for Friday? My last class ends at 3:30." I said that I could be there by 4 and slowly

stood up. There was an electricity I felt for the first time in months. He put his palm on my shoulder and I felt my body completely relax under his touch. His masculinity was so strong because he wasn't just good with his hands, but his mind was

introspective and deep. None of the men I had known before had this synthesis. I knew he was looking at me as I left his office and felt wrapped up in warmth. I floated to my car and felt a deep peace inside. It was a harmonious feeling

that had been missing in my life. I knew that if he controlled me I'd finally be free paradoxically.

Chapter 4 The Day Before Our Meeting The next day at work I felt lighter, but also dreamier. It was Thursday and my appointment with Dr. Sherin was getting closer. I was truly shy, but somehow had an

aggressive fantasy that ran through my mind about our upcoming meeting. First of all, I had decided I was going to wear the old bra that showed my nipples through my blouse. I wanted to please him and not disappoint him. Was this being passive-

aggressive? I would look innocent at the same time. But, it really wasn't just an act. I was really scared. Was I shy or a whore? Could I be both? I felt very timid, but also could see walking over and unbuttoning his shirt when he was reading my paper.

"Sabrina, don't overthink this," I told myself. It was supposed to be warm on Friday so I thought I'd wear shorts that hugged my butt very tightly. I had a necklace that would hang right at the top of my cleavage and move as I naturally

adjusted my body in conversation. Each time I would lean forward he would follow it and be drawn to my breasts. I knew I couldn't really orchestrate how things would go. Heck, I didn't even know if anything would happen. Maybe he would just see me as too

old and dead inside. What about his marital situation? I still was not sure about that. I could not find him on any social media sites. The bio at the college did not describe his personal life. I was ambivalent ethically about being the other

woman and thought it was better to avoid that situation. It would be bad karma and someone could do that to me in the future. But, would I be able to keep my resolve? My mood hadn't felt this good in a while. I didn't feel that dreary state of

being the pathetic, divorced school teacher destined to a life of drudgery and living in a house full of cats. Even if it was episodic, I could feel deeply once again and have ecstatic moments that relieved me from the flatness of fulfilling my daily

responsibilities. When I was walking to my car after work, Jenny who teaches art stopped me. "You seemed happier today," she said. I told her that I felt that going back to school was good for me. "Maybe your luck is changing," she

mysteriously smiled and laughed. Back at home, I worked more on the draft for my review for Friday and looked at the bracelets I'd wear. Men have always complimented the shape of my hands and I wanted to accentuate them. I

picked out a scented body lotion that smelled like vanilla. The voice in my head was scolding me, "You are in school for an education, not to be a tramp." I mentally replied," Well, I am an educated tramp and I know that's what he

likes."

Chapter 5 The Appointment With My Professor I could hardly get through the day at work today. I was going to change my outfit at home right after school and then get to see Dr. Sherin. At school, one of my students, Robin,

was in tears. I was able to get her to open up to me privately during the first snack break. "Ms. Harris, my dad left my mom," Robin sobbed. I hugged her and told her that I knew she and her mom were very strong. Was this an omen that I should reflect on the

consequences of my behavior? Would I be wrecking Dr. Sherin's family? I rationalized my flirtatious fantasies by telling myself that I could be enhancing his family life by giving him renewed energy, humor and bliss.

I knew this was a big lie though as I really hoped to make him think of me and constantly long for me after our meeting. I wanted him to be filled with a romantic hunger that could only be satisfied by taking me with his firm hands. And I didn't care if his fantasies

about me would rob his time with his family. In fact, I hoped he'd be distracted. Yikes, maybe I really am a bad person. I unlocked my door and found my sexy clothing ready to jump into. I sprayed on the fragrance, ate a quick yogurt so my

stomach wouldn't grumble and did some final eyebrow tweezing. A pang of doubt started to haunt me. This wasn't a date, it was an appointment to review my writing draft. What if that is all he wanted? Would I have to return to my lifeless shell again not

only lonely, but humiliated? Even if he wasn't married, was I his type? There were so many attractive students and many are so much younger and sluttier. My hands were shaking a bit as I grabbed my paper draft and jumped in the

car. When I got to campus, I ran to the bathroom to check my foundation as well as mascara, adjusted my shirt to be tighter and pulled my skirt higher. I put some glimmer over my lip gloss and swayed back and forth to see the way my necklace would

fit in my cleavage. When I knocked on Dr. Sherin's door I was trembling a bit. One of the top scholars was going to be looking over my paper and also my body. He opened the door and I saw a Bob Dylan CD cover on his desk. I

could see that he noticed my breasts through my shirt and the necklace dangling in my cleavage. Dr. Sherin made a conscious attempt to shift to my paper and I handed it to him to look over. After looking at the first page, he asked me if I was fascinated by infidelity. I

told him that it was very exciting to me, but also there were ethical concerns. Dr. Sherin said, "My wife was unfaithful and we no longer live together." I was elated to hear that, but said, "I know it must be painful because my husband and I split up too." Dr. Sherin

said that there was no intellectual chemistry with his wife. I said, "Joey didn't understand my love for Chopin and reading sonnets. We would be next to each other, but our minds were so separated. Nothing could feel so alone." Dr. Sherin nodded and put his

glasses on his desk. "I know you appreciate the classics, but I also sense that you haven't been able to feel like a woman in a long time and to release your feminine side", he whispered gently. "Why do you keep pushing it away?"

I felt flustered that he could read me so well. He said in a commanding voice, "Please stand up and walk over to me." I could do nothing but listen to his instruction. He placed his hand on my back and made small circles on my lower spine.

"I was having a difficult concentrating on reading your paper because the outline of your nipples was distracting me. Why are you being so naughty? You need to get on your stomach now over my knees." I was stunned. Was he

thinking of spanking me? I was never spanked before in my life and he hasn't even kissed me yet. But, I was getting very wet and immediately complied. This was not the way I thought things would be going at all! "You are shy, but you've

been a bad girl for trying to excite your professor. You need to be disciplined for this. Don't you know how to behave yourself?" This was a completely unexpected turn of events for me. Was he going to pull down my thong and

actually spank me? This is a man who publishes in international journals. My heart was racing with excitement, lust and fear as he pulled my skirt up and tore my thong off. He gave me a gentle tap on my bare butt and told me that next time he

would see me that I need to wear a bra that hides my nipples. "You need to apologize to me now for being a seductive distraction," he said forcefully as he continued to spank me. I was so turned on and simultaneously

humiliated by the spanking. I knew that I was trying to stop him from concentrating on the editorial process of discussing my paper. He speaks at conferences and is respected around the nation. Was I trying to diminish his analytical capacity by being a

classless whore? "I'm so sorry," I purred. "Tell me that you are sorry for being a little whore," he commanded. "I'm sorry for being such a slut," I said. Then I hesitated. I don't know why, but I had to blurt

out, "But, I just can't help it." I felt contrite, but I also was proud that I was tantalizing him. "Then you need another spanking until you learn your lesson," he said sternly as he masterfully hit my bottom again and

again. I felt that my juices were flowing out of me and that I was needing to be filled so desperately. He was not someone I could manipulate and that itself made me very excited. But, I also was scared to be with a real man.

"It's time to get on your knees," he demanded. I got under his desk and he unzipped his fly and whipped out his manhood. "This is what you need now for being so undisciplined and sassy," he whispered he put his cock in my mouth. It was huge and I let it slide all

the way to the back of my throat. He moaned and told me that I was his little slut. I felt so proud and turned on, but also demeaned. I liked being reprimanded and being put in my place. I knew I deserved to be scolded and punished for trying to tempt a brilliant man.

Why did this all feel so right? "I just want to please you," I managed to get out breathlessly between his thrusts down my throat. He abruptly pulled his warm cock out of my

mouth and then told me to get on my back on his couch. I was lubricating so much and wanted to just pull him inside of me as my pussy was dripping and yearning for him. I reached up to pull his body towards me. He pinned my arms down

with his and said, "You still like to be the boss, don't you. You need to obey your teacher. I can see you have never been with a real man." As he pinned my arms down he teased me by entering my pussy with his large cock and pulling

out quickly. "Please, fill me. Please," I begged. "I'm your master now and I will fill you when it's the right time," he answered. He continued to tease me but touching my clit making little circles and drifting up to my inner thigh.

 I was aching so much. "I'm so empty and need to be fucked," I begged. A tear fell out of my eye as the longing for him deepened. "You need to learn who you are," he said sternly as he continued to stroke my clit and excited me.

 "Waiting till I say it is time is what you need to learn. You always try to get your own way and that is your problem. " I am not good at waiting, but I knew he was my teacher now and if I pouted he'd make me wait longer to be filled by him.

I could not manipulate my way out of this. This frightened me but also seemed right. Tears were falling out of my eyes as I needed his manhood so badly inside me. Was he going to keep teasing me? I already knew that I loved him so

much. His cock was strong and perfect like him. He saw that I knew I was no longer in control and then he fully entered my wet pussy and let me moan. "Oh, oh , oh, I've been waiting for you for so long," I cried out.

"I will teach you how to be a woman," he whispered as he held me and I climaxed with a cascade of little screams. He continued to plunge himself into me and his cum exploded seconds later deep inside my pussy with a succession of groans. Our juices

merged and spilled over my thighs and we truly merged on all levels. My femininity was unlocked and I felt a deep contentment. "Should I call you Dr. Sherin," I asked playfully. "You can call me Josh. I

think you are ready to let go and live from your soft side," he said lovingly. "But your soft side has to be cultivated more. Your next lesson is on Tuesday. You need to throw out that old bra. I will text you what to wear for your tutoring session on Monday night".

We hugged and our eyes met. I never felt so fulfilled and free.

Table of Contents
Chapter 1 New Beginnings Chapter 2 Reflections Chapter 3 Back In School Chapter 4 The Day Before Our Meeting Chapter 5 The

Appointment With My Professor