I hate a lot of implements. To the point where saying I hate them may have little meaning anymore. But I really, really hate bathbrushes! Arggh! I have two of them, one of which is that round headed brush from Walmart that every other spanko on Earth seems to have. That thing is awful. I think the fact that it’s round makes it worse because it’s just the right shape to get into every little area. I am all for the cause of saving the trees and banning wooden implements. Who is with me?? And we need to send the already existing ones back to nature. Ideas?
The other night, I got home and was eating dinner. I don’t recall exactly what the conversation we were having was about, but J was being intentionally annoying. He just kept persisting with it and was really bugging me and I cursed him out over it. (I know some top is going to read into this and think that’s my way of saying “It’s not my fault,” but I’m just setting up the context here so back off! :-P) Now normally he doesn’t care about cursing (lucky for me, lol), but it’s a matter of context and it’s not supposed to be directed at him.
So he wasn’t too happy about that. When I went back into the bedroom, he was sitting there with the bathbrush out. As the little voice in my head cursed again. He had me bend over the bed and started spanking me with his hand. Quickly my pants and panties came down and I laid down on the bed. He continued with his hand for a minute then switched to the bathbrush. Ugh, I hate it! He kept spanking right on the sit-spots as he asked if I understood why I shouldn’t do what I did. Being in such a compromising position, one might think I would just say yes. But I wasn’t feeling very agreeable. I said that it wasn’t fair for him to do things to intentionally annoy me and not expect me to react.
He didn’t seem to like that answer. He spanked even harder with the bathbrush as I tried to keep myself from completely rolling over out of position. He told me that I can react but should find a more appropriate way to express myself. After another volley of smacks to the sit-spot, I was slightly more agreeable. God, that thing freaking hurts. He didn’t believe me quite yet though and still kept at it as I kicked my legs and voiced my distress. Eventually he eased up and stopped. He rubbed my bottom for a moment and hugged me. Fine, I’ll try to use “jerk” instead of “asshole” in the future. But I think we can all see what the real solution to this is- bonfire.