Sweet Confusion

Should she confess her “confusion”? No, it is just too personal. You see; her confusion has to do with a certain, familiar, pleasurable, warm sensation between her legs. Why should she be feeling horny now? A spanking has nothing to do with sex…or does it? She lowered herself over her husbands lap, and feels something that she has never felt while over her father’s lap. She smiled inwardly; her husband is “confused” also! She squirmed wickedly.

She was mildly, though not altogether unpleasantly, confused as she stood before her husband of three months preparing to receive the first real punishment spanking of her married life.

She was not confused about why she was in trouble; she had been caught in a lie…a big lie about money.

She was not confused about her husband’s choice of punishments; that had been jointly decided between them before their marriage. A deliberate lie was on the short list of offences that would always earn her a brisk, serious, application of the hairbrush on her bare bottom.

Moments ago, she had opened the top-right drawer of their bureau and retrieved the brand-new wooden hairbrush that they had purchased just for marital corrections. The brush is now laying on the edge of the bed right next to her husband. She stands in front of him, eyes cast down. The lecture is over, now it is time for the inevitable. Finally he speaks again…”raise your arms”. She obeys. He pulls her blouse over her head. “Turn around”. Again; she obeys. This is a relief, she no longer has to look into her husband’s disappointed eyes or look down at that waiting hairbrush. She feels her bra loosen and drop to the floor. He circles her waist with his arms and gives her a long loving hug, then his hands drop down to fumble with the catch of her pants. The pants drop to the floor. The busy hands return to her waist. She feels a tug on her panties. First, down in the rear, followed by a wet kiss on each nether cheek. A tug in front, then the panties join her pants at her ankles. He reaches down and holds each slipper in turn. Without being told, she lifts each foot up, out of the slipper and free of her tangled clothing.

She is not confused about what is about to happen, she has had enough parental spankings as a child and teen to know. Today, the polished wood of their new hairbrush will meet bottom flesh for the very first time. Its busy song will fill the bedroom as it stimulates her bottom. At first the song will be solo as she tries to “take her punishment like an adult”. But all too soon her voice will join it in a sort of duet; whining, crying, apologizing, and making impossible promises of future perfect behavior if only that painful tattoo on her rear would stop. In spite of her best intentions, her hands will start sneaking down towards her bottom. He will have to stop for just a moment as he traps her hands in the small of her back to protect them from the flailing wood. The spanking will start again with new vigor. The tempo of the brush will set the rhythm for an age-old horizontal dance; her bottom jerking in time with the hairbrush, her body vainly trying to squirm away from the punishing wood, her legs ineffectually flailing. The spanking will not end until her bottom is shocking-pink and lightly bruised. Short-shorts will not be a fashion option for at least two weeks until her bottom and thighs heal.

His voice pulls her back to the present. It is time. He tells her to “assume the position”. Should she confess her “confusion”? No, it is just too personal. You see; her confusion has to do with a certain, familiar, pleasurable, warm sensation between her legs. Why should she be feeling horny now? A spanking has nothing to do with sex…or does it? She lowered herself over her husbands lap, and feels something that she has never felt while over her father’s lap. She smiled inwardly; her husband is “confused” also! She squirmed wickedly.

Copyright (c) Guy Spencer 2001

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