Note: This post contains explicit references to F/F sexuality. In fact, it’s the most blatantly sexual post I’ve ever written. If you’re uncomfortable with this, please skip it!
A couple weeks ago, I visited friends in Denver before heading to Chicago for Crimson Moon. I had a great time while I was there. One of the many highlights of the trip was getting to spend time with Amoni. Amoni is, hands down, one of my best friends ever. I feel like a lucky girl to know her, and even more so that I get to hang out and goof off with her a few times a year. One day when we were hanging out, we decided that we needed to go to the store to pick up a few things. Amoni needed to get face wash, so we ended up in that section of the store, where I was distracted by hairbows. Just down the row from there, I saw something else related to hair: brushes.
Now, it’s debatable as to whether or not I actually needed a new hairbrush. I had recently broken one of mine while giving a particularly hard spanking in a session. Despite this causality, I still had three good ones left. So, I was looking kind of casually. Amoni pointed out one with a slotted back, which I rejected. Then this one caught my eye:
It was called the “Goody Heritage Collection” and had a very vintage look to it. It looks very similar to my Mason Pearson brush, except it’s much larger. Quickly opening the box proved that it was indeed made of wood, and although not murderously heavy, delivered a sharp sting when I gave my hand a test swat. It was about $16.00: clearly I needed it.
We finished our other shopping and checked out, then headed back to Tasha and Steven’s house, where I was staying. After a short period of chatting, I got out my hairbrush.
“You should probably spank me with this, to test it out,” I suggested to Amoni, handing it to her. Amoni has spanked me several times before. The first time was under the instructions of an ex-Dom of mine, and most of the ones after that had been in order to make my bottom look red for pictures, an act which we had started to call “pinking” me. One of our first “full formed” scenes had taken place at the local spanking party in Denver the last time I had visited. While we were both dressed as school girls, she had taken me across her lap as she sat on the floor. I was significantly welted from the Real Spankings shoot that I had done earlier in the week, so she started off fairly slowly. When she gave me harder smacks over my welts, I was squirming and struggling:
And so, with the memory of this in mind, I handed Amoni the hairbrush and crawled over her lap as she sat on the bed. Leaving my soft, pink panties on, she started by massaging and rubbing my bottom for a while, before giving me a warmup. The warmup was nice: similarly nice to the spanking she had given me at Scarlet Moons. I felt myself growing very warm indeed: both in the sense that stinging was starting to collect on my bottom and that warmth and wetness were gathering between my legs. In the hopes of being a polite and non disruptive house guest, I’d been refraining from my usual bedtime rituals which, when at home, include a lot of fairly boisterous masturbation. As such, I was particularly horny.
“Amoni,” I suggested, “we should just forget about the hairbrush and do what we did last time, instead. I changed my mind.”
I was blindingly aroused, and her smacks to my tender areas between my legs were making me whine and writhe. Still, I didn’t explode with orgasm the way that I had last time. Finally, she stopped spanking me for a moment. For a half second, I thought that she was reaching for the hairbrush, which seemed like a very mean thought at the moment. Instead, she gently stroked her fingers across the gusset of my panties, commenting that they were particularly wet and making me blush. She began to stroke my clit through the soft, wet material, as I remained lying over her lap, my bottom high and sore from having been spanked. Thinking about the fact that I was already quite sore, I suddenly focused on a single thought:
After I come, I’m going to get the hairbrush.
As it was a new implement, I had no idea how much it was going to hurt, but getting a hairbrush spanking is never entirely friendly. My sudden focus on my fear of the impending hairbrush spanking only shortened the amount of time before it arrived: I grew more and more aroused, panting and shaking until her simple ministrations made me tip over the edge, yelping, wriggling and calling out in ecstasy.
After a few moments of catching my breath and cuddling over her lap, Amoni announced that it was time for the hairbrush. She started fairly lightly, but even the gentle smacks stung. Because that’s what hairbrushes do: they sting. They concentrate a lot of sting into one relatively small area and push it in so that you can’t ignore it. This particular brush had a less shiny surface than a lot of the hairbrushes that I’ve been getting spanked with recently, and I could feel the difference. It had a less sharp sting than its shiny counterparts. Although not extremely weight bearing (I would still put it in the “light weight” category) it didn’t have much cushioning, so it gave a little thud on each of the harder smacks. I soon was crying out in pain, my bottom feeling swollen and hot. Not wanting to give me TOO hard of a spanking, not too long after I began to struggle, Amoni stopped and gave me some after care.
It’s a very good hairbrush. I’m certainly glad that I bought it. 😛