Anticipation

The text read: Get into position 15 minutes before I'm due home.

She replied: Yes, Sir.

No further conversation was necessary. She didn't need him to explain, to supply any more details.  This wasn't the first time he'd sent her such a text.

Before long she headed upstairs. She didn't have to be in position quite yet, but she certainly didn't want to chance not being ready on time. Once he had come home early and found her not in position when she should've been and her bottom had paid quite dearly for it.  She was determined not to make that mistake again.

Her heart was racing as she entered their bedroom. It had been quite awhile since she'd had a punishment spanking.  She was glad of that.  Actually, it had been awhile since she'd had any kind of spanking.  She wasn't quite as sure how she felt about that.  For a brief moment she considered disobedience.  He couldn't punish her if she wasn't there when he got home after all. But she knew that would only delay the inevitable. This was a part of their life together.  It was something they had both agreed upon.  And, though she was loathe to admit it at moments like this, it was just what she needed.  She knew she would feel so much better afterward.  There was just the business of getting through it first.

She took a few deep breaths to steady herself and started to undress rather than heading over to the chest where the implements were stored.  She knew that he expected her to have an implement selected and laid out for him.  The one time she'd neglected to do so he had responded by using every single implement in the chest.  She definitely did not want a repeat performance.  And so, even though she hated doing it, once she was undressed she walked over to the chest and opened it.  Instantly her eyes locked on the wooden hairbrush and she retrieved it.  The reality was that she had known as soon as she received his text which implement she was going to choose.

This was essentially a new beginning for them and the hairbrush seemed a fitting implement for the occasion.  It had been the very first implement he'd ever spanked her with.  Oh yes, he'd used his hand many times before that.  But before he'd ever used the spoon or the paddle or the cane or anything else, he had used her wooden hairbrush.

She looked at the clock.  16 minutes until he was due home.  She took another deep breath, laid the hairbrush on the bed, grabbed the pillow, got into position and wished for a distraction.  But all she could do now was wait in anticipation of what was to come.


***Just to be clear, this was fictitious, a work of fiction, not fact,
but in fact, a figment of the imagination.***
  

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