Monday, 20 January 2014

'Ebony Whole - Part 2' - Guest Fiction

Today I present the second part of Ebony Whole or Nicole Buys a New Hairbrush by Gemma Smith. I do hope you continue on Nicole's journey to give her husband what he both needs and wants.

From Cassie Hunter Spanks Men. It looks like Nicole means business.

Ebony Whole or Nicole Buys a New Hairbrush Part 2

The “arc” of their play had largely followed the same arc as those early “real” paddlings.  At first Justin reacted as if he could barely handle them, but it soon turned to "manageable but difficult."  As they went on he appeared to become more and more accustomed to it and Nicole found it challenging, if not impossible, to feel as if she was “getting through to him,” as she liked to think of it.  That’s not to say that it wasn’t still great fun or fantastic and reliable foreplay.  She had said “no warning” but threats and warnings also excited him too much to pass up on principle.

Along the way Nicole had gained, both through conversation and observation, several insights into the what and when of Justin’s interests.  As it turned out, the “caught” and “no warning” scenarios were also at the top of his list along with other times when she instigated things, a behavior that was otherwise rare for her.  She had been touched to be told that issues that bothered her personally were the most important to him while things like mistakes or problems he had or “misbehavior” that didn’t affect her came in a distant second along with games or made-up reasons.

Justin certainly “walked the walk” (even if her efforts to keep him from sitting often or easily were seldom as successful as she would have liked).  He never complained that she’d spanked too long or too hard, not even when she knew it had been challenging for him.  He stated plainly that if she thought he was being annoying and needed to be spanked she should be free to make (and implement) that decision.  He even went so far as to say that if she was bothered by some “pretty girl” (translation: half-dressed tramp) that she should “express herself” even if his behavior had been above reproach.  Nicole considered this tremendously unfair and had no intention of trying it until the night when on impulse she did so and found it every bit as amusing and exciting as he seemed to (she made sure to make it clear that his behavior had better be above reproach or it wouldn’t be a spanking he would be getting, it’d be a month on the couch).

With all of these opportunities, they had plenty of fun playing spanking games. It wasn’t until Nicole heard about “Mrs Ebony” that she realized that she never remotely considered herself to be “punishing” Justin – nor how erotically powerful the idea of doing so was to her.  That’s how she felt in the early days of paddling him, though it hadn’t lasted long, and now that the opportunity might be presenting itself again its appeal was so powerful that it almost frightened her.

The other feeling that returned to frighten her was that of being evil.  How bad was it to give your loving husband a spanking that really, really hurt?  How bad was it to want to, to be, put baldly, excited by the prospect?  Nicole had no doubts that Justin would never do that to her – unless, of course, she wanted him to.  But wasn’t what she was feeling far more than merely wanting to do it because Justin wanted her to?  Didn’t the idea of doing it when he “needed” it or “deserved” it go beyond when he wanted it?  Didn’t the entire concept of “teaching him a lesson” necessarily go beyond giving him what he wanted?  And didn’t the intention, the inescapable, irrefutable intention of enjoying it – she could almost say in advance “the fact of her enjoying it” – define it as inherently wicked?

In the end, it was her arousal that provided the answer – not to merely pursue her arousal, an ends that justified the means, but as a reminder of Justin’s arousal which amazingly always gave the impression of matching if not exceeding her own.  The first time she paddled him – and she had paddled him hard – he was aroused, it wasn’t only the later ones when he handled it better.  And if he wasn’t aroused when she finished, he'd never taken long to get right back to the same manly state.  He tried to avoid the behavior she paddled him for, but Nicole was convinced that was out of regard for her – he’d never tried to avoid a paddling itself.  Would things be different with “Mrs Ebony,” or would he start to try to get out of it?  If he did, would she let him?  If he didn’t, would she be disappointed?
Somehow, in her mind, coming out of the bedroom in a schoolgirl microskirt didn’t exactly qualify as “taking the lead” in the same way she considered that coming out from the shower wrapped in a towel hadn't. 

She certainly didn’t get a chance to sit down. Justin rose from the couch at the sight of her, took her by the hand and guided her over his lap as he sat down again.  The skirt, which had gotten a bit smaller and shorter over the past few years, had once been respectable, at least in regards to length (how respectable can a red plaid schoolgirl skirt really be?) but was now indecently short and speaking strictly didn’t even need to be raised to reveal nothing more beneath than a tiny white thong.  This was a game they played, where Nicole was spanked once and thoroughly while “covered” and then, when it was “discovered” that her panties were soaked (that was the politest description) she had to be completely re-spanked “exposed.” 

Justin would then insist on examining her further using his tongue before they consummated the scene in a style reminiscent of some of the more active volcanoes.  Playing this way Nicole had silently concluded that if Justin took to the notion of checking her panties more frequently lately she’d be lucky to sit down more than once a week.

Nicole wanted to make one more check before mentioning the "hairbrush option," as she had come to think of it.  When she had said that she "couldn't imagine" the solidly-built Kendra begging at her mother's knees, literally or not, she had meant it.  But on further consideration she wondered if the teenager, who she knew was given to dramatics, might not be exactly the type to do so independent of the direness of the situation.  A "second opinion" might prove useful.  Nicole frequently got coffee at a place near her office, often treating herself to a piece of their cream cheese coffee cake.  Consequently she had become quite friendly with the young woman who worked the late-morning shift.

Dropping in after the early rush, Nicole fell into easy conversation with Jen, who she figured from past conversations to have recently graduated from college to have experienced The Spank Shop or at least to have friends who had.  Justin's ten-year reunion was approaching which got them on the subject of high school.

"They appear to have gotten things under better control than when I went there," Nicole postulated.  "I've heard talk of this Mrs Ebony, I don't know if she's a counselor or a vice-principal, but she's earned the respect, maybe even the fear of some of the students, it seems."

"Mrs Ebony?" Jen asked with a giggle and a blush.

"Yes.  She wasn't there when I was. More's the pity.  Things were not always quite as under control as they probably should have been."

"Mrs Ebony's not at the high school," the waitress explained, clearly amused.  "She's at The Spank Shop."

"Ah.  Also after my time.  Maybe I should be grateful."

"Oh you definitely ought to be grateful," Jen assured her customer with real feeling.  "You would never want to have had to get it.  The hairbrush, I mean, from, that is, while at The Spank Shop."

Nicole was tempted to say, "Oh, Mrs Ebony is a hairbrush?" somewhat disingenuously, but considered it too close to a lie.  "Wicked, is she?" is what she chose instead.

"Aunty Andrea using Mrs Ebony is what's wicked," Jen clarified.  "Once is usually more than enough.  Way more.  It was for me."

Smiling to herself, for she'd been hoping Jen would mention personal experience and Nicole was too polite to bring it up, she asked, "You got it?  What did you do?"

"Cut class. Got caught, of course. My mom was out of town and she and my dad decided that'd be the best way to handle it.  It worked, I suppose you'd say.  I sure didn't do it again."

"So it was worse than a spanking, it sounds.  More like a paddling?  They used to paddle at schools, but they stopped long before I got there."

"Not like a paddling," Jen insisted.  "More like having your bottom roasted until you run out of tears.  Aunty Andrea does it after a spanking that seems like it would be punishment enough, then you find out what you're actually in for." The girl's apparently desperate need to communicate the magnitude of the difference was all Nicole needed to hear.  She'd visit The Spank Shop tomorrow and see how she could get a hairbrush of her own.


Faced with the dilemma of parking close by and having her car recognized or parking at a distance and being seen walking in the neighborhood, Nicole had, after great internal debate, chosen the later, entering the Shop feeling as nervous as if she was actually a client in line to see the fearsome ‘Aunty Andrea’. Her confidence was bolstered only slightly by her sensible ivory blouse, gray pinstriped skirt and pumps. Having dressed for an important meeting at her office, she'd decided to leave her jacket in the car.  At the shop she was greeted by the receptionist, a pretty, petite girl with cascading blonde locks, about 
the same age as Jen.

“Good morning, welcome to The Spank Shop. I’m Kimberley, how may I help you?” the young woman asked politely.

“I expect that you can, thank you,” Nicole replied.  “I wanted to inquire about something.  I had heard from several sources,” she went on, exaggerating only slightly, “about the shop’s rather famous 'Mrs Ebony.'  This would be the right place?”

“Oh yes,” the young woman beamed.  “Word is spreading, isn’t it?  Did you want to book an appointment or were you interested in getting one for your own personal use, ma’am?”

Nicole hesitated a moment before answering, her attention taken up by the sounds coming from the room behind the nearest closed door.  “Mrs Ebony” or not, someone was unmistakably getting a spanking for some transgression they were unquestionably deeply regretting, or would very soon be.  The Spank Shop, quite apparently, didn’t fool around.

“Personal use,” the young businesswoman chirped nervously.

“Oh excellent!” Kimberley replied, clapping her hands with enthusiasm.  “We have several to choose from, including three models specifically that are used here in the shop on a regular basis.  The genuine article, you might say.”

“That would be wonderful.  I could get it here, today?”  Nicole swallowed a bit.  She hadn’t expected things to move quite this quickly. Even though she wanted to discuss it with Justin first, it could be very, very soon that she’d be using it in any case.

“Yes, we have several of the choices available, ma’am.  Was it the 'Mrs Ebony' specifically that you were interested in?  We also have the Mama Mahogany and my own favorite, Mademoiselle Cherry that we use here specifically.”

“Well, that’s where I have a few questions.  I need something safe but effective, and I’ve heard she – or it – is very effective.”

“Oh boy, is it ever!”  Nicole recognized the young receptionist’s look from Jen, her once-spanked coffee shop friend.  “But completely safe as well.  We’ve never had anyone injured or anything.”

“You may call me Nicole, Kimberley.  It’s a pleasure.”

The petite blonde blushed and confided. “I’m not allowed to use adult clients first names unless Aunty gives me permission ma’am. As far as 'Mrs Ebony', is definitely not a pleasure, if you’re on the receiving end, I can promise you that!” Kimberley assured Nicole. 

"Aunty Andrea doesn't have a client at the moment.  Let me see if she can help you," Kimberley offered.

"I'd hate to interrupt her break if she's been working all morning," Nicole replied but by then the tall, elegant woman had appeared.  "Oh, Ms. Mahony.  Thank you for seeing me."

"Call me Andie.  What is it I can help you with?" the shop's auburn-tressed owner inquired.

"I was interested in… well, in a hairbrush," Nicole started uncertainly.

"In one being applied or for your own use?"

Nicole blushed brightly at the question. "I was thinking that I'd be using it myself.  A friend of mine is ever-so-grateful for the results you've had with her teenage daughter.  She considers them nothing short of miraculous."

"And I'm gratified to hear that.  It is a particularly effective choice.  Do you have a teenager… under your care?" Andrea asked, as Nicole appeared to be in her mid-to-late twenties.  "I'm not sure I can recommend it for a younger child."

"Oh no, he's long past the age of consent," Nicole explained before blushing again furiously.  "Oh dear," she sighed, casting a glance at Kimberley. 

"Don't worry, dear.  Everyone here values discretion above all else, don't we, Kimmy?"

Every time she used that name or tone poor Kimberley's bottom tingled, but that didn't keep the pretty receptionist from agreeing wholeheartedly.  "Oh, absolutely!  If you had any idea of…" A warning glance from Andrea cut this reassurance short but Nicole was soothed nonetheless.

After a brief consultation Nicole chose a brush.  In fact, she almost sensed it had chosen her.  While she loved the color of Kimberley's cherry wood, she couldn't pass up the heft of the ebony.  She worried that without Andrea's long, strong arms or experience she wouldn't be able to reproduce the results everyone raved about, but the two women agreed that a clothes or bath brush lacked an element of intimacy and femininity, both of which Nicole was anxious to capture.  To have Justin "under hairbrush rule," if only occasionally, was almost unbearably exciting to her.  The brush she chose was similar to the infamous 'Mrs Ebony,' the back nearly flat, contoured slightly all the way around, two centimeters longer, one wider, and a mere one-half centimeter thicker (based on a printed description in the catalog). 

"Length is critical, as is weight, particularly with an adult male," Andrea advised her, "though I can assure you that Mrs Ebony is more than adequate for anyone we've ever had in here."  Nicole was surprised to hear that they had "adult male" clients but accepted Andrea's assurance.  "Maybe more importantly, the handle on this model is described as being a bit easier to grip."  Important since Nicole didn't have the ‘Spank Mistress's’ lovely long fingers.  Andrea assured her that it would deal with the toughest customer long before Nicole's arm tired, allaying yet another concern. 

"I always suggest that before you apply a hairbrush or any other instrument of correction, you ought to have first-hand knowledge of its effects and effectiveness.  This model is only slightly different and I'm confident that Mrs Ebony could produce results similar enough to enlighten you.  Kimberley could book an appointment at your convenience."

When Nicole realized the gist of Andrea's suggestion she tried to make a wide-eyed yet firm refusal and found it extraordinarily difficult.  The woman was charming, magnetic even, and appeared so self-assured and reasonable despite having just suggested that Nicole be spanked, from the sounds of things, to tears and beyond.  "Is that a requirement?  For purchase?" Nicole asked in a wavering voice.

"No, dear, merely a very strong suggestion," she was told.

"I don't mean to offend you, uh, ma'am, after you've been so generous with your time, but the situation..."

Andrea waved her off, being able to recognize a refusal.  "No offense taken and no need to call me ma'am since you're not here as a client," she said with a bit of a smile, through pursed lips.  "As you say, the circumstances."  Then, with intentional ambiguity, "And you've made your choice."

That she had.  Nicole imagined somehow that this masterpiece of a brush was meant to be a part of her.

Then Andrea very gently enlightened her as to the price.  It could be ordered and she'd have it within two weeks, Andrea said.  Nicole could only be described as stunned.  While she and Justin both had good jobs and no children, they weren't the types to buy true luxury items, which is what the beautifully-made hairbrush was.  At the same time, by now she had no interest in considering some of the excellent and less expensive alternatives.

"I have to say, that is more than I was expecting.  I mean, I've never priced one before," Nicole explained.

"I quite understand, of course," Andrea assured her.

"It will really have to be tomorrow, I'm afraid.  I'll order it then or take a look at some of the others."

"You can call and Kimberley will take your information over the phone if you'd prefer," Andrea said smoothly as they returned to reception, confident from experience that the young woman would get what she wanted after sleeping on it.  The price, while high for a hairbrush, was still less than many a nice pair of shoes, and the brush was far more functional.  "Or if you need to stop back and see one we have here, please do.  Kimberley will be happy to help you."

"Oh yes, absolutely!" Kimberley agreed.

After thanking Ms. Mahony profusely for her time and again apologizing for the overnight delay, Nicole took her leave.  Despite still being in a bit of shock she was already coming up with an idea or two that would let her buy it.  Or order it, anyway.  Justin's pale white buns had gotten a few weeks' delay but she intended to see that it wouldn't be a reprieve.


After absorbing the concept of paying a rather lavish amount for such a small, albeit perfect, item, Nicole still wanted to confer with Justin before placing the order despite all normal arguments telling her not to.  Didn't Justin always say he preferred having her initiate things and wasn't this exactly the sort of thing she should initiate?  Didn't he act as if he found spankings the most arousing when Nicole's criticism was the sharpest and her complaints the greatest?  Hadn't he accepted her purchase of the paddle without so much as a murmur of complaint?  Hadn't the thrumming of her excitement demanded of her that he needed to agree or she would need to convince him?  Still, she couldn't bring herself to do it without some idea of his reaction, not if it was going to live up to any small part of its advance publicity.

She hadn't changed after work the way she usually did except to remove and hang up her jacket, wanting to look serious.  They seldom incorporated this element into their games but Nicole figured that it couldn't hurt.  Since she'd worn a gray jacket she'd pinned up her brown hair that morning, choosing simple pearl earrings that matched her blouse.  She considered after dinner to be the best time for the discussion.  Now, having removed her contacts, she'd picked up some bills as an excuse to don her reading glasses which was really just for the sake of appearance.

"Justin, could you come in here please?" she called from the living room.  "I have something I'd like to discuss with you." 

It took him a minute but he soon appeared from their office.  "Something wrong with the bills?" he asked.

"No.  I'm, ah, done with them," she replied, thrown a little.  "No, a different subject entirely."  She wasn't sure whether to tell him to sit down.  It could be a long talk, but it might be better to have him standing.  "You know, I haven't spanked you in quite awhile."  Might as well leap right in, she decided.  "Your behavior must be running amok."

"Has it been that long?  Oh, has it?  In what ways, were you thinking?"

Nicole could hear his breathing get shallower as he responded.  "Nothing immediate or important," she elaborated, "Just concerned that I've been falling behind, maybe neglecting you.  Must be a lot of catching up to do."

"Oh.  Um, yeah, sure.  Did you mean?"

"Not tonight, I didn't mean, no," Nicole explained, despite the fact that the idea of stripping him and spanking him, especially in her suit, was tremendously appealing.  "But I have a suggestion that could get us caught up a lot more quickly."  He waited silently for her to continue so she did.  "I am considering getting a hairbrush, a very good quality one.  I'd still spank you over my knee like with the paddle but it would work much faster and much much better if I had to address any real misbehavior."

"Oh.  I see," Justin said non-committally.

"I've found a brush I particularly like, that I want to order.  It's heavier than the paddle, I think, and it'd be wood instead of leather against your skin so when or if you were to need it I could do a better job than with the paddle."

"Aha," was his only comment.

Ignoring his blatant avoidance of providing any input, or so much as a reaction, Nicole pressed onward.  "I wanted to ask you about it beforehand for two reasons.  First, you know you've gotten used to the paddle.  No matter how difficult I make it there's a limit to the effect it can have on you.  A hairbrush would raise that limit," she conveyed to him with extreme understatement.

"Um, understood," Justin replied.  His replies were often greatly abridged when the subject was spanking, at least when he was on the receiving end.  He'd explained once or twice that he considered it best to accept her decisions on the subject though at times Nicole found this infuriating.

"No, I'm not really sure it is understood.  My understanding is that a spanking with this hairbrush is an entirely different experience, a real spanking experience.  If I were to get it, and then you were to get it, well, you'd really regret it," she explained poetically.

"Like you say you've wanted," he began, giving Nicole pause.  Have I? she asked herself silently before he continued, "That you say I need, on occasion."

"And don't you?" she asked, holding her breath.

"If you can't get the results you want with the paddle we have, ah, then yes, I guess you need a way to get the job done," he agreed as Nicole let out a noiseless sigh of relief.

“For another thing, this brush – at least the one I want – is rather expensive.  Quite, even.”  Justin got a funny look on his face, one Nicole couldn’t read.  She said, “I can’t tell if you think that’s too big of a problem or not.”  Now that she’d gotten her heart set on the specific hairbrush she’d chosen, she didn’t want to settle for anything less, but they certainly weren’t accustomed to spending that kind of money, at least not on a purchase that she regarded, despite its ferocity, as something of a toy.

“I suppose,” Justin said, almost stammering a bit, “that for us to get our money's worth you would have to get quite a bit of use out of it?”

“Oh, well that’s true,” Nicole replied, trying to sound as completely casual as possible. Was that his objection, that it wouldn't be called for often enough?

“Did you… did you have a number of, um, uses?  I mean, like, issues?  In mind?” he stammered.

After a brief pause Nicole said, “Eight.”  While it had taken her several days to come up with four, she expected she could add four more long before they finished with the first ones.  "At first."

“Oh?” Justin seemed a little shocked.  “Um, big things?” he asked, his voice shaky.

“Not all of them big, but… serious, yes… things that I could handle a lot better with a good hairbrush than I could hope to with the paddle.”  Even saying this sent another wave of warmth through her.

“Oh.  Um, in that case I guess you need to get it.”

Nicole didn't experience the sense of relief she'd been expecting.  “You know, Justin – if this doesn’t sound too odd… perhaps you could get it for me for Valentine’s Day.”  They didn’t usually spend that much for Valentine's gifts, though he had, once or twice, bought her jewelry that had to have cost a lot more.  This would save them the cost of one gift, anyway.  If she ordered it tomorrow it should arrive on the 12th, two days early.  Mmmm, would they wait or would she get right down to the business of blistering Justin's poor neglected buns?

“I think maybe you should buy it as my gift – that is, as a gift to me,” Justin suggested, still speaking very deliberately.

“For you?  For me to use, on you?” Nicole had no intention of being subjected to it herself.

“Ah, yeah, um, you know… I’m anxious to improve my behavior, and if there are things you object to… I definitely want to stop doing them.  And… times that you encourage me or help me get the chores done…”

“A lot of that can be handled with the paddle,” Nicole reminded him.  “Maybe I’m not doing a good job of keeping up with that.”

“I didn’t mean it that way…”

“No, no, you’re right.  I know you struggle sometimes and I’m always glad to help when you need it,” she offered.  “I’ll keep a better eye out.  But,” she went on, returning to the subject at hand, “That’s the paddle.  Everyone has assured me that this is a completely different level.”

“Everyone?  Who’s everyone?”

“Relax, I haven’t said anything – just listened.  A mom I know, a girl who got out of high school a few years back, and the ladies today at The Spank Shop.”

“Oh great,” he groaned.

“They’re the soul of discretion, they have to be.”

“Yeah, I guess they must.”  With this Justin fell silent, biting his lip.

“I just wanted to be clear, it’s not at all what you’re used to.  Still want it as a present?”

“Keeping you happy makes me happy,” Justin assured her.  “Should I wait and put it on my birthday list?”

The association of “birthday” and “spanking” gave Nicole a familiar twinge and she suddenly realized that Justin's shortness of breath was one part nervousness, two parts arousal.

“I have no intention of waiting for your birthday, young man.  We’ll see what Cupid has in store for you this year.”

“Better than being shot with an arrow,” Justin quipped.

Sure, you say that now, Nicole told herself silently.


That night in bed as Justin embraced her, Nicole slid carefully from underneath him, leaving him lying on his stomach despite her absence.  All he wore to bed were pajama bottoms which she edged, then pushed, down over his hips.  The waistband stretched across her fingers as she massaged the lowest part of his right cheek, then his left.  Her mood had been rising from satisfaction to elation since the end of their little chat.  His earlier encouragement emboldened her.  Assuming her "stern" persona she resumed their earlier chat.

"Right here, you know, that's where you'll really get it once I have this hairbrush," she informed him.  "Bright red like from the paddle, then dark red, then I'll be finishing up. In only half the time.  Sometimes.  Sometimes, unfortunately, it may have to be longer, depending on what you've done."  She felt him squirm and concluded that it was from the conflict between wanting it and dreading it despite knowing that the real conflict was between his pajamas and his growing excitement.

"You said..." he began as he ground his hips, "That you had a lot of... issues?"  Trying to assess just how much he was in for, Nicole guessed.

"I think I told you eight.  Some are little things but ones I want you to stop doing.  Ones that you will stop doing," she affirmed, her voice taking on a touch of a growl.

"I know I do some things that you hate."

"Oh, baby!  You are so wrong about that!  I could never hate anything about you!  If you say such a thing again I'll have to spank you for that, too."

"In any case, things you want me to stop."

"And you will.  Don't worry."

"I shouldn't worry?"

Nicole's hand rubbed his lowermost curve again.  "No, you should definitely worry," she said in his ear as he ground against the bed.  "But you'll stop.  That's precisely what this hairbrush is for."

"You, ah, how long were you thinking?  We would take to do all of this?  Handle all of these?"

"Haven't decided exactly.  Maybe one a week, that's two months?  Unless you wanted to go faster, get done sooner?" she teased, her fingers still dancing.

"Oh no, one a week is good," Justin assured her.

"Maybe two the first week," she decided.  "And you'll have to be on your best behavior.  I don't want to have to spank you when you already can't sit down."  As she said it that became her new goal, to spank him until he couldn't sit down.  "Catching him" while he was still sore sounded pretty good, too.

"Oh?  You'd do that?"

"I'd have to if you made me.  By misbehaving."

Figuring that was enough talk, she pushed Justin over to lie on his back so she could admire the effects of their discussion.  Wearing her favorite green nightie, the matching panties still in her dresser drawer, she couldn't quite decide what she wanted first.  What she did know, however, was that this weekend would see a lot of the paddle.

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