The Warming Power Of A Hairbrush Spanking

Michelle talks about her morning spanking:

This morning, before work, I was running around the house searching for my shoe when Mike reminded me that it was time for my morning spanking. We do it each morning, more often than not, and it’s gotten to be, I guess, sort of a routine. When we started we said it would be 10 swats. We very rarely stop there though, and I will ask for more if he does for some reason stop at 10.

It’s usually done in the bedroom, before we even get out of bed, but this morning we’d woken late and were preoccupied. I bent over in the living room, over the arm of the couch. He swatted me once, with his hand. Twice. I started feeling the familiar tingly warmth, the centering of my thoughts. Then: oh holy God! Suddenly I was smacked very hard with SOMETHING that was NOT his hand. I jumped up and yelled “What the hell was that?!” I turned to look at him and he was standing there, smirking, with my hairbrush in his hand. “Bend back over, sweetie”, he said. “NO WAY!” I hollered, and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Once I was safe in there, I did a little dance where I held onto my bum and kind of spun in circles, feeling the pain. What in the world was he thinking??? Mike was on the other side of the door, laughing and entreating me to come out: “Get out here, woman!” “NO! YOU GO AWAY!” “Fine then.” I heard him walk away, and when I emerged he was sitting, sulking, on the sofa (yep, alliteration. Can’t beat it). Okay, he wasn’t sulking, he was getting ready for work. I’m trying to make him look bad here.

I felt badly. I mean, I’ve taken the cane, I’ve taken the belt and the flogger. What was going on with this? Why was it so hard to take a spanking with a hairbrush? I kissed him, apologized, and bent back over, promising I wouldn’t get up until we were finished. I even told him that I would take at least 30 swats with it, even though it hurt me.

He gave me ten, and sent me to work (he’d found my shoe while I was in the washroom), promising that I’d get the rest when I got home.

Usually, by the time I’ve finished my commute into work, the morning spanking is nothing but a pleasant memory. Today I had tangible proof of my spanking for most of the morning, in the form of a very warm, red bum and a couple of little raised welts. I tell you, the meeting I had to sit through was interminable, and only by imagining sitting on nice, cool icebergs did I make it through without jumping up and sitting in the fridge.

And when she got home, they broke a couch….

  1. Michelle commented on March 10th, 2005:

    Gee, thanks, SpankBoss!
    We haven’t done the full-on hairbrush thing yet (mainly because I’m still really bruised from the last time), but we’ve played around a little.

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