“But that’s the beautiful thing about submission. Letting go of the need to know everything, to do everything, and think everything. When you know, love, and trust your Dom, there’s a thrill in letting him take control because you know he knows, loves, and trusts you, too.”

“And that’s what safe words are for.”

“Right.”

“Have you ever said your safe word?”

“Yes.” I grinned. “Before me, Master had never had a sub use her safe word. It’s only happened a few times, but I’ve used mine. I like to say it’s because I’m a challenge, but truthfully, I was new to the scene when he collared me. How would I know what my limits were if he didn’t help show me?”

“Simon had me complete a checklist.”

“That’s a good start. With a checklist he knows where to draw the lines. By actually playing, he’ll know how close he can get to them or if he needs to adjust them.”

She’d finished with the sandwiches, so I pulled out a tray and we piled them on it. I’d put them in the refrigerator along with the fruit salad. We’d eat after we played.

“There’s so much to learn,” she said.

“And you’ll never know it all. But Simon is well respected and highly regarded. You’re in good hands.”

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She blushed. “Not yet, I’m not. We haven’t done anything.”

I chuckled and we went back to finishing up lunch preparations. That’s how the men found us a short time later. Simon walked over to Lynne and gave her a quick kiss. Nathaniel took note of her calmer demeanor and mouthed Thank you to me. I simply smiled and nodded.

He looked down at his watch. “Ten minutes, Abigail. The three of us will follow later.”

I made it to the playroom in five minutes since I wanted plenty of time to kneel and get in the right frame of mind. Almost immediately after going to my knees I could sense a difference in myself. Nathaniel’s plan from last night had worked. I should never have doubted him. I closed my eyes and focused on the air moving in and out of my lungs.

“Very nice, Abigail.”

I started slightly. I hadn’t heard Nathaniel come in. Matter of fact, I hadn’t heard Simon or Lynne either.

Nathaniel walked around me. “I think we’re both in a much better place mentally today than we were yesterday. Wouldn’t you agree?”

I kept my head lowered. “Yes, Master. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He placed the end of a riding crop under my chin and forced my head up. His eyes were dark with desire and wicked intent, yet somehow completely serious. “I take responsibility for last night and you can be assured it won’t happen again.”

His voice washed over me, taking with it the lingering stress and guilt I had about the previous night. I felt so much lighter. It was obvious he noticed the change in me, because he smiled before saying, “I want you on the whipping bench.”

He didn’t tell me to crawl, so I rose to my feet and walked toward the bench, swaying my hips the way I knew he liked. I settled my body over the bench, noting he had attached restraints to the wooden frame. That usually meant he’d planned something intense and excitement rushed through my veins.

He spoke something so softly to Simon and Lynne I couldn’t hear, then walked to me. Just as I thought, he picked up the restraints and bound me to the bench.

“I want to hear all your noises today, but I need you to be still. Since it’s been so long, I thought it for the best I bind you.”

“Thank you, Master.” I appreciated his reasoning for binding me.

“Look at this ass,” he said, running his hands over my flesh. “Practically begging for me to punish it.”

I took a deep breath and let the air out of my lungs with a moan. His hands felt so good. He kneaded my backside for a few minutes and then smacked it hard.

“Oh, fuck, yes,” I nearly panted. I tried to lift my ass up for more, but he’d bound me too tightly. Instead I closed my eyes and gave myself over to the sharp pain that diffused into pleasure with his hands.

I noticed he’d stopped only when the silence of the room struck me. “Green, Master,” I almost whined, wanting more.

There was no verbal reply. In fact, there was nothing for about thirty seconds. Then I heard it—the unmistakable metallic clinking of a belt being unbuckled. I sucked in a breath. How had it escaped my attention he had a belt on?

My body tensed in anticipation. There was something about his use of a belt in the playroom. He could wield one just so, making me feel pain or pleasure depending on his desires. Whenever he’d use one, he would wear it for the next day or two and the sight of it around his waist never failed to remind me of how it felt against my skin, guaranteeing instant arousal.




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