The Dominant by Tara Sue Me Page B

took a minute to bring the whipping bench out of the playroom and into
     my bedroom. I felt it necessary—thinking of Abigail as Abby last night had confirmed for me that I needed to set the relationship
     right. I had been too generous—ignoring her slipups, hesitations, and attitudes. I’d never done that before and didn’t like
     what I was allowing Abigail to get away with.
    I decided to give her a subtle warning. I’d show her the whipping bench—a reminder that I was her dominant and of my expectations.
     Perhaps it would be enough and a chastisement wouldn’t be necessary.
    I took a plug from the playroom as well. My fantasy in the shower had further cemented my desire to show her the pleasure
     I could bring her. Pleasure she would not expect. I put the plug in my dresser along with a bottle of lube.
    At seven o’clock, Abigail served me breakfast in the dining room. She poured a delicious-looking sauce over perfectly cooked
     French toast. I couldn’t wait to try a bite.
    “Make yourself a plate and have a seat.” I ate while she went into the kitchen. Mmm . . . bananas. Damn, she could cook.
    She sat back down at the table and started eating her own breakfast.
    “I have plans for you today, Abigail. Plans to prepare you for my pleasure.”
    For your pleasure.
    “Yes, Master.”
    “Eat, Abigail. You can’t serve me on an empty stomach.”
    She ate a bit more then, but not a lot. Not nearly enough. I slowed my eating down to match her pace. We both finished around
     the same time, and she hopped up almost immediately to clear the table.
    Yes, this will work fine. Just the sight of the whipping bench will be enough.
    She walked back into the dining room and stood at my side. Her body trembled slightly.
    “You have far too many clothes on,” I told her. “Go to my room and take them all off.”
    While she went upstairs, I took Apollo outside. He nosed around the yard, caught the scent of something, and ran toward the
     woods. I went back to the house. He would be fine outside for an hour or so.
    When I walked into my room, Abigail stood naked, looking at the bench.
    “It’s a whipping bench,” I said. She jumped at my voice. “I use it for chastisement, but it has other purposes as well.”
    Don’t make me use it for chastisement.
    She kept staring at it, perhaps trying to decide what my words meant.
    “Step up,” I said. “And lie on your stomach.”
    Get the feel of it, Abigail. Understand that I don’t want to use it for punishment, but that I will. Touch it. See that my
     rules are real. That disobedience has consequences.
    Then I will let you step down so I can pleasure you on my bed.
    “Abigail,” I said with a sigh. “This is getting tiresome. Either do it or say your safe word. I won’t ask again.”
    She wouldn’t use her safe word, would she? What if she did? I’d expected her to hesitate before stepping up to the bench,
     but I assumed she would follow my order. What if I’d miscalculated? What would I do?
    Before I could decide, she took a deep breath and stepped up, lying down as I’d commanded.
    Yes.
    I went to the dresser and took out the plug. I squirted lube on it and placed it beside her.
    “Do you remember what I told you Friday night?” I looked over her naked body, laid out and waiting for me. My cock grew hard
     against my pants.
    I didn’t expect her to answer, of course, but I wanted her to know where I was headed. I watched her, looking for a sign or
     movement to show she understood. But there was nothing. Perhaps I needed to refresh her memory. I put my hands on her waist
     and ran them down to her ass. She tensed.
    Yes, she understood.
    “Relax.” I ran my hands up to her back, gently massaging her. She didn’t relax, of course. I stepped back and took my own
     clothes off. As expected, she grew even tenser.
    My experiment with the whipping bench was over. Perhaps she understood and I wouldn’t have to bring it out for chastisement.
     Now it was time