New Implement Month - The Verdict

I promised you that the backscratcher would be at the top of the list for New Implement Month. So, without further ado . . .

For some reason, I'm usually a bit shy about telling Ron when I have a new implement for him to try. But this time he beat me to it. He brought up the subject himself, although not exactly the way I had intended. Here's how he started the conversation.

"You know that backscratcher you have in your room?"

"Yes!" All my new, untried goodies are displayed on the wall. It's about time he noticed it.

"I thought maybe we could use it, you know, as a backscratcher. We don't have one."

"Sure. Good idea. But first we need to try it out the other way."

"It looks kind of flimsy. I think it'll break just like the shoehorn."

"But I expect you to be very gentle. I'm sure you won't break it."

So the ice was broken, and Ron knew what was expected of him. Not that I really thought a "gentle spanking" was possible, but I had heard so many scary stories about backscratchers, I wanted to lay out a few ground rules.

I was feeling quite apprehensive when I placed the backscratcher on the bedside table for Ron's convenience. When he came into the bedroom, he saw it but didn't say anything; he had expected it to be there.

"You'd better save that for the end," I muttered. He understood.
At least, I thought he understood. After some kisses and a few firm hand spanks, Ron positioned me over two pillows on the bed and reached for the bamboo implement. What was he doing? I looked away and braced myself. then I felt . . . a tickle? The teeth of the backscratcher gently scraped back and forth across the left cheek, then across the right.

I burst into giggles, and Ron laughed too. His hand took over and he gently kneaded each cheek in turn. Then he reached for the leather paddle and got down to business. My laughing stopped as the sound of the slap of leather on skin was quickly followed by an electric sting.
Ron proceeded to rhythmically spank my bottom, alternating left and right. Then he stopped, and gave me another gentle massage with the teeth of the backscratcher, then with his hands. It felt very nice, and I laughed again.
My husband resumed his rhythmic swats with the paddle, then decided it was high time to replace it with the backscratcher. I felt a sharp sting, then another, which told me something had changed back there. It didn't make as much noise as the leather paddle. Quiet but . . .

No, not deadly. It wasn't bad at all. Even when Ron decided to finish with a flurry of very fast, hard swats, I was certainly uncomfortable but not exceptionally so. I was very well warmed up, which could account for my being able to withstand it. I will admit, my bottom protested when Ron rolled me over onto my back and slipped his hands underneath me to cup my burning cheeks with his hands. I quickly forgot my discomfort as his hands strayed elsewhere and I turned my attention to other urgent matters . . .

After we had rested and cuddled for a while, I got up to dress, and checked my bottom in the mirror as I always do. It was a bit pink. Disappointing! And while it was hot and stinging for about two hours afterward, by the next morning I didn't feel much at all. That's very unusual for me. I usually delight in the afterburn of a good spanking for at least 24 hours.

So about the backscratcher being pure evil, I'm not sure I can go along with that just yet. Maybe you're just wimps. Maybe I need to try it without a warmup first to appreciate its true evil nature. Maybe Ron was too gentle. Maybe I bought the wrong kind. Maybe my bum is tougher than I thought. 

Update: the backscratcher has disappeared from its place on my wall. I checked the implement drawer in case Ron was planning on testing it again. Not there. I guess he has hidden it away for vanilla purposes only. Now that's turning the tables!