Brush Strokes

His car broke down.

We were outside of the first hotel…and it just died.

I must back up a bit.

He’d headed up the hill to the hotel next door (part of the same chain)…since the one we were sitting in front of was going to push our check in time back by an hour or more. Our time together is already short…He did not want to lose an hour waiting on them.  Ergo, the trek up the hill to hotel 2.  The 2nd hotel had a room, and He took it, and zipped back to hotel 1’s parking lot, where He’d bid me to sit and wait for Him.

He calls ZZZ, you know the automobile assistance place?  He sent me off to  the hotel with my stuff, told me to go in and get settled while he dealt with ZZZ.

A short time later, he texts me. “Come get me.”

ZZZ would be more than an hour to come and look at His car. He had a better way to spend that time, rather than sitting in the parking lot.

I ran down the street in my little car, and helped Him put His toybags into the back of mine.

Bag one. (heavy as HELL…what the fuck is in there?)

Bag two. (oh, hello, Mr. Belt. *gulp*)

Bag three. (seriously? THREE fucking bags, Master?)

Bag 4 (for His work)

And Master.

I am remonstrated for not using my directional.

“But I’m turning out of a parking lot, Master.”

He gives me *that* look.

“Yes, Master.”

I head up to the hotel, and we unload the bags of stuff. Bags and bags of stuff. Bags and bags and bags…*giggle* okay, maybe not *that* many bags.

We get back to the room and He gives me this look. I swallow, hard. And before I can move, His hand is grabbing my ponytail and tugging me, bent over, to the bed.

Now, you have to understand, the order of this is all confused in my head. I think He tosses up my skirt and tans my ass good. Fucking hell it hurts. Hurts good. Hurts hard. He tells me to “stay” and that always makes me hot. I want to be a good girl, I do, I do.

But the toothbrush is coming. The toothbrush is coming! OH NOOOOOOOOO…..

and He grabs my fucking foot and attacks. First the shoe comes off, and He whaps my ass with it. Fucking rubber shoes HURT! I yelp, but immediately He is attacking my foot and I’m laughing and moaning. Pain and tickles, my mind can’t process.

More tickles. Then the brush. He scrubs between my toes, He uncurls my toes, then rubs all along the undersides of my poor piggies. I’m screaming with giggles, writhing and wriggling like a fat minnow as He tortures between my toes, then down,      s  l  o   w   l  y ….

e   x   c  r   u   c   i   a  t  i  n   g  l   y

s       l            o            w               l                    y

down the length of my foot. He had my leg bent, His arm pinning me in place on the bed…. and I can not move. Oh, I try.

Trust me,

I tried to get away.

Pointless. I shouldn’t waste my energy…He’s pinned me, and  I can’t move.

And then the other foot. Same thing, same torture, same reactions.

Somewhere in there is a hard rubbing of my clit, bringing me to the edge…Orgasm free since Tuesday, I’m desperate for this…craven and wanton…and when His fingers plunge into me, I come, hard.

He laughs, calls me a wanton slut, then flips me over and paddles my ass again.


I’d told Him about my special spanking outfit. He sends me to the bathroom to change.  I dress quickly (you’ve seen the outfit…not much to put on!) and add the hose and red slut shoes…and I peek around the corner…..

……………..where HE is waiting for me…and *SMASH* He whacks my hip hard with the fucking fucking FUCKING hairbrush.

And before I can react, *WHACK* He nails my ass.

I pull back into the bathroom so fast it was like I had elastic bands on my back, sucked back into the safety of the room.

My mouth is opened in a big O of shock and pain…but no sound can come out.

He’s done this before, hit me so hard, so fast, that no words can escape, not even an “oh” of pain.  I fold over, my hand slipping to my hit hip (bruised, still…that fucking brush leaves the most incredible bruises) and gasp in a breath.

“ohhhhhhhh,” I moan, as He stands in the doorway, smiling. “Ooooowwww”.

The word is soft, feeble, all I am capable in that moment. His smile widens as He slips from the room.

I somehow managed to screw up my courage and step out of the bathroom, albeit scraping my ass along the wall…I know, like that would save me, right?…before He grabs me and throws me on the bed. Belt alternates with hand.

And His phone rings.

ZZZ has arrived, and saved my ass….for now.

and then?

I waited.




fell asleep.

His text woke me up. “Get a drink. Use your bowl. I’m going to be a while. Eat your bagel, recharge…And remember…NO cups for sluts. ”

I know…it didn’t happen for Him, either,  if there isn’t proof…so there you all have it.  What’s that all about?

Dunno. Guess I’ll find out…when He’s ready for me to know more. Kinda like how I’m doling out the tale here…

although I have to admit that a ton of it is ….memories are flooding me…and I spend a great deal of time with my fingers on the keyboard, eyes shut, smiling, and remembering…

But there is more to share. Of course there is. I still have forgotten to talk about those anal beads, again!

13 thoughts on “Brush Strokes

    1. Okay, okay.

      Anal beads coming up. 🙂

      Tuesday. Wednesday at the latest. Then again…this is me… 🙂


    1. Hello sweet tammy!!

      thank you for commenting…and for “feeling” the story…(waiting to have more to read on your blog, “broad” hint there!)

      Hugs and love back,


  1. That foot thing… sheesh. In the bondage movies we watched the other night, there was a foot tickle/torture scene. Fortunately, Sir was uninspired.

    But it sounds like a wonderful time, and i’m so glad you two were together… Tell more! What about the anal beads?????



    1. The time together was great…we both needed it. Too bad there was a 3 hour time when he was away. Yes, three HOURS (which is why I fell asleep, recovering from round one of spanking)…out of our day.

      Maybe that’s why my bruises are almost gone. Except for the fucking hair brush ones on my hip.

      Anal beads? OH rats! I knew I forgot something!


    1. Lots of smiles, still a full week later. Helps a lot that I had a short visit with him in his car…10 minutes and I stagger back into my car with bruises everywhere. That Man can pinch like a fucking lobster!!


      1. Ewwww! No Thank you!

        By the way,… as soon as we have our paycheck, you are So Getting a care package. I’ll try to send it on a Saturday so that it arrives during the week. Sort of a Toys for Twats box.

  2. Bags.. yes I am well aware that some dominant types have many bags they carry around. Sir has three.. one looks like a golf club bag only closed. Heavy as clubs only no clubs in there.
    I’m so glad you had such good times together~

    1. what is it with three bags? That’s actually how many Master brings, too! Though He tells me that he has tons of stuff in storage in his cellar.



I'm so glad you took the time to leave some words!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.