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The Hairbrush

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I wasn’t sure what you had planned, but I was wet before you led me into your bedroom, the anticipation making me hyper aroused. After weeks of careful planning, drawing and redrawing the contract, it was finally time. You said you would take into consideration all of what was in the contract but didn’t tell me exactly what to expect tonight.

Your orders were clear. Be undressed before you returned to the bedroom, kneel on the floor, and keep my hands behind my back. I was not to hesitate to follow any directions you gave tonight, or there would be consequences.

Punishment wasn’t supposed to be enjoyed, yet the mere thought of it, and everything else I’d agreed to, made me achingly wet.

You take forever coming back into your bedroom, and it gives me time to glance around, but I don’t move from my position in case you come in. It isn’t a large room, but the bed is at least a queen, with metal posts. A medium box lay on the bed, but I don’t dare move from my position to look inside, however much I wanted to.

Finally, the door opened behind me, then the soft click as you shut it after you. I kept my head facing forward as you’d commanded, though tried to see if I could spot you out my peripherals. No luck, but I could hear your bare feet on the floor as you approached me. Without warning, darkness encased me as a piece of fabric was placed over my eyes.

I jumped at the suddenness of it, my hands automatically going to the sides of my head, where I could feel elastic bands. Your hand gripped my hair tightly, and I knew it was because I’d moved. Though tight your grip was, your tone was soft as you say, “Relax.”

I breathed in deeply, counting to five in my head. After you were sure I was fine, you pulled me upward, using my hair to guide me to my feet. I hesitated when you pull me forward because I’m unable to see, but you tisk softly.

“One,” you say, urging me forward again. Chills spread through me at the number because it was a promise of punishment. Not wanting another point, however much the threat made me tingle, I took an unsure step forward, then another.

“Good girl,” you say, “The bed is just before you. Bend over it.”

I stick a foot forward, trying to feel for it, and just as my shin makes ***ful contact, you say, “Two.”

I hold in the slight moan, and use the placement I found, and your hand in my har, to guide me over the edge of the bed. I fight the urge to use my hands to help, knowing it will result in a third point. You don’t let me fall, but rather I meet the bed with softness. Your hand releases my hair as I breathe in the newly washed sheets beneath my face. You move away for just a moment before you’re back. Your hand grasps my wrist as you tie them together behind my back.

My pussy is throbbing at the implications of having my hands bound and the *** position you place me in. I jerk at the sensation of your hand against my back as you run your fingers down my spine. You hand continues down, over my ass, and I stiffen, becoming aware I had two points that you could act on right now. Your hand kneads my ass as I prepare for the sharp sting of your hand.

Instead, your hand continues down.

You avoid my pulsing clit entirely, though do chuckle at the wetness dripping down my inner thighs. I push my ass toward you with a whimper, hoping you’ll touch me where I want to be touched. You don’t, and continue down further, on the inside of my thighs, down to my knee, until you grasp my ankle.

“Spread your legs for me,” you order softly, and I comply, my pussy jumping at the command. I hold in the moan at your tone and do as I’m told. “Good girl,” you say.

Good enough to get your hand back on my pussy, I think with hope, but feel you attach something to my ankle. You reposition my legs wider as you attach something to the other. I test the restraints, finding I can’t move my legs closer or further. I’m stuck as I am, spread open for you.

Once again you move away but aren’t gone long. You place headphones over my ears and pull one away to speak to me.

“Comfortable?” you ask.

“Yes,” I say.


“Yes, sir,” I add quickly, but it’s too late. I’ve already acquired the point.

You replace the headphone, effectively cutting off my auditory and visual senses. I tense, waiting for whatever is about to happen, but as seconds tick by, nothing does.

I’m not sure how much time passes, but it can’t be very long. The anticipation is killing me, so when I finally feel you again, spreading my cheeks, I moan. You work a small butt plug inside me, fucking me with it as you do. I feel myself gasp as the sensations of it. I’ve never had one before, so this one is small, but fills me as you move it in and out.

I wiggle my ass when you leave it in me, and you hand pushes down on the small of my back, letting me know to stop moving.


*** blossoms across my ass cheek, and I suck in a breath, feeling something between *** and pleasure. Your hand sooths the tender flesh for a moment.


This time it’s harder, on the other cheek, and my eyes water as I try to jerk away from you. My bound legs don’t let me move, and without my hands, I’m useless. You hand repeats the same soothing motion.


I feel myself cry out with the third, the hardest yet, though my pussy is pulsating. Whatever you use to punish me doesn’t feel like your hand. It’s too cold, too flat. Plastic maybe? Whatever it is, I’ve immediately formed a love-hate relationship with it.

I barely process the pleasure-*** as you sooth me again, before I feel your other hand separating my pussy lips and your tongue on my clit. I almost cum right there, but your tongue is moving off my clit and to my hole. I push back against you as you dip your tongue in me, desperate to get you back on my clit, but moaning all the same.

You bring me to the edge, but then stop abruptly. I whimper, wiggling my hips, but your hand is then in my hair again, guiding me to stand. You press me against you when I’m upright, letting me know that you’re still full dressed, but your cock is hard.

I try to reach between us to get my hands on you, but I can’t. Your free hand moved around to my breast, kneading it before softening your touch. You give the same treatment to my other, but entirely avoid my aching nipples.

“Please, sir,” I say, unable to help myself. I feel you chuckle against my back as your fingers lightly brush over one of nipples, making me arch my back with a gasp. You brush over the other before rolling the peak between your fingers, pinching hard after a moment and nearly causing me to cum again.

I wiggle my ass, grinding against your cock as you play with me. I know I’m moaning but can’t stop myself. My pussy is dripping, empty, and I just want you inside me. “Please,” I beg, “Give me your cock.”

You hand lets go of my hair only to settle firmly around my throat as you other gives the same rough treatment to my other nipple. It lasts only a moment before your fingers are brushing over my stomach, down past my mound, and then inside me.

It’s just a single finger at first, feelings how wet I am. Then two, and you’re so slow as you guide them in and out, your thumb brushing my clit softly with each entrance. I’m on the edge, but at this pace, it’s just not enough.

I could cry when you stop, but your fingers remain inside me. I’m not exactly sure what you want me to do, but desperate to cum, I begin to ride your fingers. “Please, sir, can I cum?”

I can’t hear your answer, but it doesn’t matter, because I’m cumming on your hand. The orgasm rips through me and I can see stars behind my eyelids. I feel myself going forward, guided by you, but it isn’t until your cock is inside me that I realize you’ve pushed me over the bed again.

You thrust and pull back quickly, your hands gripping my hips before your weight settles on me, and your hand is pushing my head into the mattress. There is nothing tender about the way you fuck me, the way you use me. The penetration from the plug and your cock overwhelms my senses as another orgasm builds.

From this angle, you hit my g-spot with each stroke until I cum again. This time fluid gushes from my cunt as your thrusts become sporadic. Your hand gathers my hair as you push forward a few more times, and then pull back, cumming on my still tender ass.

After a few seconds, your hand softly brushes my hair, and then you slip the blind fold off my eyes. I blink at the sudden light, trying to focus my eyes and then I can see what you’ve spanked me with.

“A hairbrush?” I ask, and your laugh rumbles against my back.

13 minutes ago, lincoln608 said:

Do you have more like this? 🥺

Not yet, but I will. There is another piece of my writing on here, called "The Café". It's more mental BDSM than physical. 

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