The Bath Brush

Late yesterday afternoon Michael arrived home. He had spent most of the day at an orientation with a new company he’ll be working for. No, he didn't quit his other job. It’s just that he hasn't been getting enough hours and as he’s not salaried that has a direct effect, a direct negative effect, on his paycheck. In theory, if he’s not working for company #1, then hopefully he’ll be working for company #2. In reality, well, we’ll just have to see how things play out. Hopefully the second job will fill in the gaps without completely obliterating family time.

We had dinner and then headed to church. Upon arrival our family unit split up, our son heading to the kids group, our daughter to the teen group and Michael and I to one of the adult groups. We’re currently attending a parenting class, which has been informative and fun for the most part, with a few harsh realities thrown in for good measure I suppose. Afterward, we headed home, listening to the kids tell us all about their night.

Once we were home we got the kids off to bed. Michael was ready to snuggle up and head off to dreamland too, but I was wound up for some reason. We were standing in the kitchen, Michael looking for something to drink in the fridge. I went over to him and said “I feel like” and then poked him in the chest with my finger.  That's code for I'm feeling feisty or upset or out of kilter or whatever and I feel like pushing his buttons.  It's my attempt to relay how I'm feeling before I act on it and get myself in trouble.  It doesn't always mean that I need to be spanked.  It could mean that I need to talk or that I'm longing for some sexy time with him.  But it definitely means that I need some attention, that I need his help to get back on track and in a better frame of mind.   He started to say that he didn't have time to deal with me, but he abruptly changed his mind when I fled to the bathroom telling him that I knew that and that I was sorry and…well, let's just say that I had a bit of an attitude about it.  I mean, I knew he had to get to bed and get some sleep, but, well, I was feeling vulnerable and his reaction just hit me the wrong way.

He followed me into the bathroom, shut the door and reached for the wooden bath brush. This is an implement that doesn't get used very often, thankfully. He pulled me over to the washing machine, had me bend over and pulled my pants and panties down. I was protesting, trying to get up and apologizing profusely. He didn't let my protests deter him and he held me in place and started in with the brush. It was especially stingy since my cheeks happened to be a bit chilly. He took care of that though. Soon enough my bottom was quite toasty. It didn't really last that long, but long enough that he got his point across and snapped me out of my feisty mood.

When he was done, he asked me if I was ready to come snuggle. I nodded my head yes, pouting a bit, with those big puppy dog eyes. He said “good” and pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around me and kissing my forehead. We talked about it a little while we snuggled in bed. I think he was surprised at how quickly his actions turned my attitude around. It had been awhile since he’d really spanked me after all and I think he’d kind of forgotten, not that it worked, but just how well it worked. As for me, I was calm and content, happy. And I fell asleep peacefully with my head on my husband’s chest.

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