On punishment and bathroom sex

Things didn’t happen quite as I had thought they would, but I –was- punished for being late to bed. He didn’t use the cane because he came home tipsy after going to a beer tasting, and to be honest, it seemed like he was going to wait until the next day – which meant not happen – which honestly had me wondering if this was going to work at all.

I didn’t want to control him or correct him on it. As much as I’m sure it still would have hurt…it wouldn’t be the same if I told him he needed to punish me. (There are times when we’ve done that and it’s fun, but that…isn’t what this is about.) I waited until he was about to go to bed before I talked to him because I didn’t want to just sit on my feelings or let the dynamic fall apart from the start; I do want this to work. I just told him as respectfully as I could that not following through was why this hadn’t worked the last time we had tried it. We talked for a few minutes because in his mind not being sober enough to handle the cane was a very good reason to not try to cane me – and he was and is right about that.

But at the same time, this was the first test – we were two days into our 30 day agreement. If things were already going awry, how could we make the rest of the month work? If he explicitly told me he was going to punish me for tardiness – and held firm to that idea up until the point of execution – I felt like we were right back to letting this go. Punishments pushed off have never happened and I wasn’t exactly filled with confidence that this would be an exception. I don’t need him to be an overbearing micromanaging dominant, but I do need him to be able to draw a response out of me. If he’s all bark and no bite, even if I jump the first time or the second time, eventually…human nature…I am going to stop jumping. I don’t want to submit to a dominant I forge in my head – I want to submit to him.

It didn’t take him very long to decide I was right.  And even though I had made it clear that I wasn’t asking him to punish me (and really, I didn’t even want him to), he yanked my hairbrush out of my hand and bent me over. I’ll admit, I was a little peeved. That was my hairbrush! And I had only brought this up when I did because I didn’t want to manipulate him into punishing me and I was immediately worried I had. I stopped worrying about that pretty fast though because damn – that fucking hurt. I’d never had more than the occasional swat with it and I was so freaking surprised at the pain – it hurt and then it stung! Not that he’s big on warm ups anyway, but there were none – and he was swinging hard, and getting harder. I actually cried out on the last one even though I could see from the look on his face in the mirror that it was going to be a bad one. Stupid brush, I might never look at it the same again – despite not having the heft of the wooden spoon or flogger or the crack of the belt, it hurt. A lot. And left me barely red! Insult to injury.

And of course, he decided he liked that. Putting my hands behind head and admonishing me to keep them there, he began spanking my breasts with that stupid brush. OW. My breasts bruise pretty easily – I’ve never figured out why – but I was surprised how fast they came up. I don’t even know when it changed but at some point he spun me around to fuck me roughly from behind – while still swatting my tits with the damn hairbrush. I don’t remember much of it but I do remember being on the peak and he swatted my right breast hard enough to bring me down hard – I was snapped out it so fast because it felt like my whole breast stung. He grinned (sex in the bathroom has advantages) – bastard knew exactly what he had done! – and fucked me harder, still swatting my right breast. I’ve dealt with pain during sex before – clothespins on my clit and nipples, tabasco on my clit, him grinding into welts and bruises from me just being caned or spanked etc – but rarely more than the occasional spank during the actual fucking and I wasn’t sure if I was going to find my rhythm again to come during regular intervals of sporadic pain. Needless to say though..I did. Haha.

And it wasn’t that I liked the spanks on my breast – some of them were really hard! – but maybe it was the contrast, because I do remember that I came hard.

And damn, but there is literally a palm sized bruise on the outside of my right breast.

I have more I want to write about, but I think I’ll make it a separate post because I want to be able to find it easily later.