That One Time I Spanked Myself With A Hair Brush

This is a guest post of a readers experience with spanking. 

Introduction

I’ve been seeing a spanko, that’s someone with a spanking fetish, for a few months now, and when he first told me he was into spanking, I wasn’t sure what he meant. He asked me when the last time I had a proper spanking was, and I threw out a number for him. Spanking during sex? Well it had been a while. But I didn’t mind a few swats at my butt during sex. It was fun.

He asked if I knew what a proper spanking was, and I asked for a definition, “Not just a few smacks on your bottom during sex… A proper spanking means me sending you to your room, then coming in, putting you over my knee, yanking your pants down, and turning your bottom bright red like a naughty little girl deserves… ;)” I distinctly remember not being sure how I felt about that. I had been expecting a more brutal, BDSM-esque scene in my head. Paddles, whips, dungeon, the works.

But this… this was so, juvenile. He wanted to discipline me like I was a child, and it caught
me off guard. I told him I had never received a proper spanking, and he suggested that I was well overdue for one and asked me if I agreed. I told him perhaps. I wasn’t sure how I’d react mentally to it, but I was incredibly curious, and I wanted to experience it. I had just gotten out of a boring vanilla relationship, and here was a dashing young man, holding a hand out to me, re- welcoming me to the world of kink. I decided that I would give it an honest try at some point to see how I’d like it. I figured that if I enjoyed the minimal spankings during sex, I would probably enjoy a disciplinary spanking. That was my logic anyway.

The first time we ever sexted, he asked me if I owned a hair brush, and asked me spank myself with it. I, of course, didn’t. I was sitting in my jeans sexting back sexy words, pretending to be
a virtual vixen. Later, he asked me if I honestly spanked myself. I said no, because I felt a little silly.

That was just the start of things. We talked more about spanking. I began to research it more, listen to podcasts, and read literature on it. I wanted to find out all I could about spanking so that when I finally got mine I wouldn’t be a complete newb, although that is inevitable.

The first time I went to see him, he gave me 30 spankings for missing my bedtime. And it was exhilarating. I had to count each and every single one out loud for him. It was just after I said “thirty” that I knew that I wanted him to really spank me. The next few times I saw him, he spanked me again. But they were on the lighter side. None really hurt, none made me squirm. They were still fun and exciting, and exciting more so because I knew this was his fetish. I still wanted a proper spanking.

I would eventually get my lengthy spanking from him, but not without giving it to myself first.

The Spanking

I’d been trying to come up with interesting photos to take for him. The distance, even though it isn’t far, made it an event to go see him, so visual feasts were a requirement.

I was sitting at my desk, feet up, flipping through my phone, looking at the old photos I had taken for him before. Bum photos, mostly. He was an ass man. He loved bums, and he loved spanking them. I clicked my tongue, and stared at my desk. I could try searching how to take a sexy selfie, or look up inspiration, but I always found myself frustrated. These were only sexy because the women were paid to look good and were airbrushed to shit so any angle looked great.

It was then when I sighed, took out my hair tie, shook my hair out and grabbed a hairbrush. I sat up staring at it asking myself out loud why I hadn’t thought of this before. Phone in one hand, hairbrush in the other. Lightning struck and thunder sounded.

I nearly ran to my dresser, picked out a pair of black lace panties, a black and white skirt, and a white button up shirt. This was as close to school girl as I was going to get. I painted on some cat eye eyeliner, applied mascara and finished off the look with bright red lipstick.

I set up my phone so that it would take many photos at 1 per second. I pranced around a little bit first. Took photos of my bum in a skirt, the usually silly stuff. And then I grabbed the hair brush and took photos of myself with it, holding it against a butt cheek, swatting lightly at my bottom. I hit myself once, and hard, to see if it’d leave a mark of any sort. It kind of did. I took a photo and it didn’t show up as well as I wanted. So I spanked myself again, on the left cheek.

I kept going until it registered on the camera as a rosy pink colour. I could enhance it a little if I needed.

After goofing around a bit, I finally managed to get some photos I was happy with, from nice angles, and a variety of degree of dress. I picked out the ones I liked best and cropped them to frame the scene the way I wanted. I had changed into a comfy dress, taken most of the makeup off, and put my hair up in a bun. My work here was finished.

Just when I had a set of about 10 that I was happy with, my phone chimed. “What are you up to Miss?” he asked. His ears must have been burning.

“Naughty things.” I responded. I quickly changed the topic and asked how his night was.
He prodded at me to elaborate on “naughty things” a few times and I played coy until I sent him a photo of my unspanked bottom, thanking cycling for helping me build a better butt. He commented that my bum looked “oh-so-spankable”.

Perfect. Exactly what I wanted to read from him.

“Oh you think so do you?” I asked, and I sent another photo, this time one where I had a red mark on my left cheek. “Care to do the other side?” He told me he was speechless and couldn’t tell me how much he enjoyed that sight. I was pleased with his response. I had expected conversation to continue back along the non-sexual side, but the door had been opened.

When he began to ask questions, and I knew I had piqued his interest. Did you do it hard? Were you flinching by the end of it? I bet you didn’t have to spank yourself for long before your bum turned red.

He said that he had such a desire to drive up right away and spank me. Which was also perfect. I had just the photo for that. I sent him one where the pink mark was fading into my alabaster skin. He suggested it needed a renewed hue and then asked if I was alone.

I responded in the affirmative, my roommate was out. He asked if I agreed that it needed a renewed hue, and when I said, “Yes” he told me we would take advantage of the solitude.

“Go to your room if you are not already there. Pull your desk chair out and face the back of it.” “Ok.”
“Ok? Respond properly Miss.”
“Yes, Sir.” I typed back.

“Thank you. Place your hairbrush in the chair. Take a pillow from your bed and place it over the back of the chair.” I took a photo of the set up and sent it to him. “Perfect. Now, I want you to bend over the chair as far as you can… I want you to be double over as much as possible, bottom in the air”

I wasn’t actually planning on bending over my chair. It was too flimsy to support me. I paced slowly around my bedroom, still wearing the small dress that I had changed into after my mini photoshoot. Phone in one hand, hairbrush in the other. He asked me what my level of clothing was, and I told him. He instructed me to roll my dress up until butt was exposed and then run my fingers lightly over the skin. Squeeze firmly, lift and then let fall back into place.

I was still pacing slowly around my room, anticipating what he was going to ask me to do next and debating whether or not I was actually going to do it. He had asked me to spank myself before on skype, with just my hand, and I felt absolutely ridiculous. I looked around my room, clicked my tongue a few times and kept checking the text messages that were streaming in.

I eyed up my dresser, measured the height of my hips against it.

Hmmmm. I leaned over it.

A good height to rest on. I checked his last text. “Are you ready for your spanking, Miss?” he asked. I put the phone down in front of me, rolled up my dress and did exactly as he had told me a few messages before. Just to test the waters, and see how silly I felt. It wasn’t so bad, and it was just me alone in my room, so what would I have to be embarrassed of?

I grabbed my phone and typed back “Ready when you are, Sir.”

“Quite ready. I want you to begin by giving yourself 30 fast and solid snacks… Alternating cheeks”

I bit my lip in hesitation when I read that text. I glanced at the hair brush resting in front of me and back to the text on my phone screen. Part of me really wanted to do it but part of me was judging myself, at how silly this would look if someone walked in (a zero percent chance). I internally hum’ed and haw’ed, debating if I really was going to do this.

I went back up the message log and looked at the second photo I sent him, and his reaction to it. I wanted to please him, I wanted to experience an even more intense reaction to my spanking myself from him. It was then when most of my inhibition disappeared. I finally just thought, “Fuck it. I’m going all out. I’m sending him pictures, I’m sending him audio. Let’s do this. If he’s into it, what have I got to lose?”

I opened up an audio recording app on my phone, picked up the hairbrush, hit record and went to town for ten strikes. I stopped the recording at ten, and then gave myself twenty more. I stood up for a second, noting the sensation and my emotions. I felt… naughty? And pleased with myself that I had sucked it up. I was overcome with a sense of pride, and then, I was overcome with a sense of “How far can I take this?” What were my limits and limitations? It seemed to me that the best way for me to test my pain tolerance for spanking was on my own, and I had the perfect setup for that at the moment.

I sent him the ten second clip of my first ten spankings. He wasn’t expecting it, but he was pleased with the sounds. “Thirty more please. Harder.” I put the phone down and did as I was told. I struck my butt cheeks thirty more times as requested, harder and with no audio this time. When I finished, I let him know. He asked me how my bottom felt. Warm, tingling. “When you are ready, we will continue.” I told him I was fine.

“I want you to give yourself 12 with the brush. Record the audio, please.” I smiled. I was pleased to know he enjoyed the audio. I put my phone down in front of me, still leaning over the dresser, pressed record and hit each cheek forcefully with the brush. Each time I made contact, my skin would scream. I sent him the audio and eagerly awaited a response. It came quickly, “Very good, young lady. 12 more.” I whacked each cheek 6 times and then notified him when I was finished. “Put the brush down. And now, quickly, thirty more.” I felt a wave of confusion and embarrassment rush over me.

“With my hand?” I asked.

“Yes, please.”

Heating up

I bit my lip. What was it about my hand that seemed so much more ridiculous than the hair brush? Why was I so much more embarrassed using my hand? I wondered if I could just do it with the hairbrush and lie to him. It was still a spanking, right? I decided that I would do my best to ignore the humility and use my hand. If he ever found out, though it was doubtful he ever would, I would probably be in trouble. I lifted my hand up, looked at my palm and thought of his large hands. I rather these were his.

I scowled and began to count to thirty. The hits were not nearly as hard, even though I tried, especially when I was trying to hit the left cheek with my right hand. I told him when I was finished and thought to myself that if he had the ability to hear my voice or see my face I’d be in trouble. I definitely would have used a sour tone, with a facial expression to match. He instructed me to run my fingers along my bottom and then to rub it. I did as I was told, only because I really wanted to see how the skin felt against my hands.

“It’s warm.”

“As it should be,” he responded. “You’re going to get 30 more with the brush and you will be finished. We’ll do 2 increments of 15. For the first set, I want them rapid and sharp… Rest for
a moment, then record the last 15. I want them harder than all the previous ones. Do them as hard as you think I would do them… Keep in mind, if I don’t think you are trying, you will receive 30 more, are we clear?”

“Yes, sir. Crystal,” I typed back to him.

“Thank you. Begin please.”

I put the phone down in front of me, picked up the hairbrush and stared at it for a moment, contemplating the events thus far. My behind was tingling and warm and so far the pain was nothing I couldn’t endure. Compared to blowing my knee out twice, and the various injuries I had received from martial arts, this was nothing. A different kind of pain though. Sharper, intense, short lived surface pain, compared to the deep, enduring, sickening pain I was sadly more familiar with. But I was beginning to like this new kind of pain. It was easy (maybe too easy) to tie pleasure to it. And knowing that he was on the other end of my phone, probably beyond excited, filled me with an intense desire to please him. Just knowing he was turned on, turned me on.

I spun the brush in my hand, leaned forward, reached back and began to count to fifteen in my head. When I had completed that, I wasted no time opening up the recording app and getting
to work on the next fifteen. I knew that I was allowed a break, but I wanted my bum as red as possible. I recalled him saying to perform them as hard as I thought he would, and I did. I played the audio back to myself before sending it to him, and it sounded a little more brutal than what actually happened. I shrugged and sent it to him anyway. If he thought it sounded hard enough, I wouldn’t have to do them again.

I waited for his response, hoping for praise. But all he said was, “Go over to your bed and lie flat on your stomach, please” I stood up straight, staring at the screen, slightly outraged. I scowled, and huffed before flopping down on the bed. Another behaviour that probably would have earned me 30 more, had he been there. I propped the phone up on my nightstand so I could still read his incoming messages. While I waited, I focused my attention on my glutes. The skin almost felt like an electric current was coursing through.

“Hands behind your back. Normally, this is how your Sir would fuck you after your spanking… Bottom glowing, hands behind your back. Lay there for a moment and savor the feeling of your warm, rosy bottom. Breathe deeply and keep your bottom relaxed. After you show your Sir what a well-spanked bottom looks like, you may play if you’d like.”

Reflection

I laid there for a minute, rereading his messages. I pondered what I had just done to myself. I replayed the events in my head in quick succession, and thought about how I felt about the pain. I liked pretty much all of it, and the spectrum of emotions I felt. My butt felt stimulated, I enjoyed being told what to do to myself, I liked that he got off on it, I liked that I felt kind of naughty, and I liked the pain I felt each time that hairbrush made contact with my behind. I wondered briefly to myself if he would spank me this hard, or harder if I asked him.

I was glad that I had decided to actually spanked myself, now that he was requesting photographic evidence of it. My bum was very warm, and I figured I had better take some pictures of it before the hue disappeared. Although, I had a feeling that wouldn’t happen for a while.

I snapped a lot and sent him the best three. That’s when the praise occurred. And a lot of it. He asked me if I enjoyed my glowing red bottom and how I felt. I told him I enjoyed myself, but would prefer for him to spank me instead. He agreed. We exchanged a few raunchy texts post spanking, and I told him how much I enjoyed the entire scenario.

“I love that you had such a positive reaction to your spanking” his words read. “You and me both.”

Do you have experiences with spanking or spankos? Leave it in the comment box below! 

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Guest Post: Diva Cup (review)

Like most girls, I made the transition from pads to tampons early on
in my menstruating years. I hated the feeling of a diaper, the way it
smelled even after a short period of time, I hated how it gave my poor
bum a rash. Just everything about the pad I hated. So I switched to
tampons, my favorite being the O.B. ones, because they were small, and
it was a “shove-and-go” application.

I’ve been on the tampon train for years now. I didn’t particularly
like them that much, the string always managed to cut me or bug me,
and I always had the fear of it leaking in the back of my head. I
didn’t like swimming with them because I’d just imagine the tampon
being soaked with chlorine after. But they were always the better
option than pads.

My biggest issue is that I’m a sporty girl. I love my athletics. And I
find that the harder I work at my athletics the heavier my flow is.
Which is a problem! I like to go to yoga every now and then in booty
shorts, I like to swim, I love my martial arts where I wear WHITE
pants. And my period has always made me have to double up, not that
it’s super heavy, but I’m paranoid. While doing Taekwondo in my WHITE
pants, I’d end up wearing a super tampon which was way more than I
needed and a liner just so I wouldn’t have to worry. But then comes
the issue of pulling out a half dried tampon. I’ve recently taken up
Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, and again my period was a worry. Did I want to be
wrestling with guys, wrapping my legs around them while wearing a pad
or worrying about a leaking tampon? No.

menstrual-cup

So I went about the internet looking for the best option for athletic
girl and discovered the DivaCup. Something I wish I had discovered
years ago. A medical grade silicone cup you put in your vagina and can
leave for 12 hours. No more guessing which size for which flow you’re
going to have that day. No more watching the clock for 8 hours so you
don’t get TSS. No more feeling bad about flushing tampons down the
toilet. No more having the buy MORE tampons/pads, as the DivaCup will
last a long time. And so far I can atest to no leaking, as it pretty
much seals to the inside of your vagina to catch all the blood. I feel
liberated. As liberated as you can get while on your period.

I decided to give it a go on the first day of my period where I had 3
hours of Jiu Jitsu class. I put it in just before I left. Once you get
it high enough inside, you don’t feel it at all, like a tampon. I went
to my class, rolled around, wrestled, went nuts basically. At the end
of the 12 hours, I checked my underwear. Nothing. Totally clean. So I
removed it, dumped it, rinsed it and put it back in. I had read on the
webpage that you could even sleep naked with it. So guess I what I
did? Yup. Woke up to a nice clean bed. No battlefields. That’s right.
I slept naked on my period and didn’t have to bleach my sheets.

I highly recommend it to athletic women, and really, women in general.
There’s only two sizes to choose from and it’s based on whether or not
you’ve given birth.

tumblr_meug3qFg2p1ra9vuc

Overall I give the DivaCup a 9/10. I’m docking a point because it
takes a bit of effort and a learning curve on how to insert the cup,
but once it’s in, its in.

Thanks for the guest post, S. 

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Gangbang Fantasy Lives

This is a guest blog submitted by a reader. If you’re interested in submitting a guest blog read this post for more information.

Two weeks ago, I did the amazing, and some might call it the unthinkable or unimaginable. But for me, it was a long time coming. And totally hot.

I was in a filmed gangbang, a special-made fantasy-turned-porn for my amazing lover and partner.

How did I get here? Gangbangs have been a huge fantasy for my partner, J, and I for the past year. We tried setting up multiple gangbangs and it wasn’t until about a month ago that one finally worked out: it takes so much planning, scheduling, vetting, and emailing. We are picky: guys need to be intelligent, thoughtful, be okay with using condoms, and our preference is that they are actually turned on by the gangbang scenario. We don’t want guys who are using the gangbang as simply an excuse to have sex with a woman and then leave. We want guys who are into the idea of a girl with multiple men.

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