A Foretaste

She looks less assured when a certain plug
Is rammed right up her backside - a foretaste
Of how she'll feel, presented on a rug,
To be well used. It would be quite a waste
For her to be allowed to simply dream,
Without direction, orders or command;
And every one of these can make her cream,
As can the punishments that I have planned
For her fair form that she presents again,
Her lack of balance causing her to quiver;
I wonder if the harsh, inflicted pain,
That's soon to follow, will induce a shiver
To run right down her back, as if she's flirting
With further retribution - who is certain?