Haven't Forgotten My Way Home (Camren)

Chapter Twenty

Trigger warnings: descriptions of domestic violence.

Lauren blinked her eyes then brought her hand up to rub them, trying to focus. Where was—oh. She was at Miss Camila's, on her couch, wrapped up in a blanket with Jasper at her feet. She must've fallen asleep. But for how long? And where was—

"Miss Camila?"

"Right here," came the response, easy and comforting, and Lauren sighed with relief. She moved to sit up as Miss Camila came into the living room from the kitchen, a glass in her hand, but one touch of her other hand and Lauren laid back down.

"What time is it?" Her mouth was dry and she licked her lips, trying to swallow.

"Nearly one." Camila sat on the coffee table in front of Lauren and reached out to slip one hand under Lauren's head, holding her up and bringing the glass to her lips. "Drink."

Water. She drank greedily, almost draining the glass before she had to come up for air. "Thank you, Miss Camila," she breathed, grateful to have the grainy, cotton feeling from the gag out of her mouth. "I'm sorry I fell asleep."

She felt awkward, suddenly shy, but she realized she didn't need to feel that way because Miss Camila had soon moved to the couch and Lauren found herself again wrapped up in her arms. She wound her own arms around Miss Camila's waist and held fast, smiling when Miss Camila kissed the top of her head.

"Don't apologize for that," Miss Camila said. "You needed to rest a little bit, and it was good for me to just sit and be quiet for a little while. We had... a really intense morning, didn't we?" Lauren nodded. "Are you sure you're all right?"

Miss Camila's voice was soft, worried, and Lauren hastened to squeeze her tight. "I'm good, Miss Camila," she said, for her own part sounding a little surprised. "It was nice to just... be with you and listen to you sing. You have the most beautiful voice."

"And what about... during?" Miss Camila didn't elaborate, and for Lauren, she didn't have to.

How had she felt, while Miss Camila was punishing her? The worst part had been when Miss Camila had said that Lauren's attitude had hurt her. Lauren had wanted the floor to open up and swallow her, along with her shame. Lauren knew she'd take whatever punishment Miss Camila would give her, as long as she'd never again have to hear that she'd hurt her. The punishment itself had been relatively mild, compared to what Lauren was used to, but that... still had terrified her. Kneeling there at the corner she kept worrying, when Camila had moved away, about when the first blow would fall, even though Camila had said it never would. So she hadn't been able to resist sneaking a peek back, to see if Camila was gathering up implements to use on her.

But instead, Miss Camila was simply sat on the coffee table, watching her with a raised eyebrow. No blows came. Just Lauren in the corner, thinking about how she had smarted off to Miss Camila and how she would never, ever do that again. Because Miss Camila was right. Lauren had had her voice taken away by her, and now that Miss Camila – had she really said that she loved her voice? – wanted to hear Lauren talk, she needed to make sure she did it respectfully. And she would.

So there had been no blows. Just Miss Camila's arms around her, and the words.

Good girl.

Then the tears.

Lauren was embarrassed that she'd fallen apart, but somehow, it had felt good too, to let go of all of it. She'd waited so long; she'd had no idea how important those words were to her until she'd finally heard them. And Miss Camila had said them so lovingly; it was clear to Lauren that Miss Camila had meant them, that she wasn't saying them just because she thought that was what a Dominant was supposed to say.