(jk it is)
Another backdated one. Listen…life has been a bit hectic! This one is set in an old school chat program. A bit of sadism, if you will.
o0o
theagent43: You’re in for the hairbrush when I see you, young lady.
glow_girl: I don’t think I’ve earned something so harsh!
theagent43: What makes you think that?
glow_girl: well, I haven’t even done anything and hairbrushes seem more for punishment
theagent43: ah yes, but this will be for *my* pleasure, not your betterment
glow_girl: :O
o0o
—M
I didn’t forget, but I admit, today has rather gotten away from me. Some family dropping by to help with some house tasks, a kid birthday party, some errands, and frankly, just needing some time to sit and do nothing, listening to my audiobook. I’ve been trying to think of what to write all day. This was the only thing in my head, as it so often is.
o0o
“Ow! Please! Stop!”
Her feet drummed against the floor, the carpet muffling the impact just enough, as she tried to push up on the rung of the chair she had been clinging to.
His left arm held her firmly down around the waist, counteracting her attempt, as his right leg expertly locked behind her knees.
He didn’t miss a beat and the hairbrush continued to fall through it all – as her tears did shortly after. Her bottom was a blotchy array of reds and purples, bruises forming on the edges and her sit spots, the center taking on that firmness of a deeper bruise.
A moment more, and her kicking stopped, her crying slowed to exhausted sobbing, and he applied the final flurry to the tops of her thighs as she squealed with renewed energy.
o0o
What’s in your head?
-M
Sorry this one is a little later in the day! I am behind on scheduling these and yesterday was a busy day so I didn’t write. However…here’s a little snippet about how my evening went, ha!
o0o
The pile of ebony hairbrushes on the bed didn’t seem so delightful to look at when she was facing feeling them each individually. Sure, though, she’d gotten great deals on them and they were vintage! collectors items! beautiful!
And painful. That, too. The first was her original. The brush she’d felt often over the 15 years she’d had it – stinging and dense and familiar. But the rest that followed were new additions. Heavier. Bigger. Searing her sit spots. Falling relentlessly with little break.
Maybe she’d stop buying new ones? Yeah. She’d stop.
—
Tucked into bed an hour later, his hand on her sore bottom as she fell asleep, she scrolled through Ebay listings for her saved search term, ‘vintage ebony hairbrush’ and fell asleep on her phone.
o0o
-M