Breaking Brushes

I’m kind of a season behind on my blogging, so this story isn’t recent, but I enjoy it. I hope you will, too!

In July, after my visit to Denver, my friend Tasha and I drove to Chicago for Crimson Moon. Crimson Moon is a party that I truly love (not like there are any spanking parties that I *don’t* like). It has a very different feel than a lot of other parties. Part of this is the relaxed, casual atmosphere that the organizers’ attitudes lend to the general festivities. Another thing is the fact that Crimson Moon is held in a hotel that doesn’t have large suites, so people tend to play and hang out in a handful of smaller, more intimate bunches. This gives you lots of different rooms to chose from with lots of different energies, which is a big win. It also means that you have the unfortunate situation of not running into people as often as you might want to, or missing someone entirely because you were always in different rooms.

On the first night that I was at the party, I came into a room to find that my friends JC and Piper, as well as a handful of others, were playing in there (in fact, I’m pretty sure it was their room, but I wouldn’t guarantee that). I’m just getting to know Piper, although she seems incredibly sweet, but JC is one of my long time friends, and he’s become one of my favorite Tops. I hadn’t played for recreation yet at the party (I’d done a couple of sessions earlier that day) and I wanted to get going at that: what’s the point of being at a spanking party if not to get (or give!) lots of spankings?! Besides, because of the variety of small groups that I knew I’d be hanging out in all weekend, I wanted to catch JC for some play in case we didn’t get a chance later.

After some hanging out and cuddling, JC bent me over the edge of the bed and started to spank me with his hand. He started out fairly gently, but moved on to start using his hand like he normally does: hard. He gives one of the hardest hand spankings of anyone that I’ve ever played with, which is really saying something! I was really wanting to be spanked, though, and I was particularly happy to be reconnecting with my friend this way after almost six months, so instead of resisting, I felt blissed out. I think I probably cooed as he spanked me. The room we were playing in was busy and bustling, and my friends were probably watching, but I was in the right headspace to not care. Everything in the background melted away, and my only thought was the brightness that I felt with each smack. After a little while, JC decided it was time to move on to another implement (I say this because his hand pretty much counts as an implement in my mind!) and he brought out a pair of new hairbrushes. They still had the tags on and everything! I think Piper had purchased them for him, so I asked her if it was alright if I got spanked with them (as this is something I would have been sensitive about were the tables turned) and she gave an enthusiastic “Better you than me!” JC told me to pick which one I wanted to feel across my bottom.

When someone asks me to pick out a strap or select a cane, I always feel nervous and a little lost: despite the amount of time I’ve spent on the receiving end of these implements, I still have trouble identifying which ones will be meanest based on site. Hairbrushes, though, are a different story. I consider myself a good judge of character when it comes to hairbrushes. I can tell which ones are going to have a deep, burning bite, and which ones will have a lighter, more superficial sting, which ones have a cushioned core that give them a gentler thud and which ones will blind me in a frenzy of smacks that I can never seem to get used to. I could immediately tell that one of the two hairbrushes was decidedly friendlier, so I picked that one. It was a a rectangular “paddle brush” in a reddish colored wood.

JC began to spank me with it, and I began to squirm a bit, wriggling around under the smacks, although they felt quite like I had expected. Smack, smack, smack went the hairbrush. Things grew sorer and sorer with each smack, until one felt vaguely dull and strange.”Are you serious?!” I heard JC ask. I turned around to look. “You broke my hairbrush! This is the first time I ever used it!”

I find it annoying when people brag about breaking canes, since that’s usually a sign of poor technique combined with more force than a person with that level of skill should be using, but with little implements like this, it makes me excited. Ha! Take that, hairbrush! I got you back!Piper seemed to share my attitude, cheering me on and talking about how I’d saved her.

Of course, at this point, that meant that I was in for a dose of the other hairbrush: the one I hadn’t selected because it seemed heavier and more bitey. It was, indeed, heavier and more bitey. I squealed and kicked a bit as he gave me a hard flurry of swats to “reward” for my “accomplishment.”
Breaking things during your first spanking of a party weekend? It’s a sign that things are off to a good start! ❤︎