The dreaded hairbrush. Only used for punishment because she hates (or does she?) it just that much. It stings, and there is nothing that she despises quite so much as sting. The worst part about it all was that she discovered the hairbrush and showed it to me. I. of course, ordered one immediately.
The thing about the brush is that I tend to use it very gently, at no point do I swing it anywhere near as hard as I could. It is my belief that because we only use it rarely (since she is such a good girl) that it has gained a certain significance in her mind so that when it does come out she is already keyed up. She is already tense because she knows she has been bad enough to warrant the brush and so puts her self in a state where she spends too much time thinking about how much it is going to hurt and how mean I am going to be.
I always tell her to relax and that it is never as bad as she anticipates it is to be, that this is for correction and that I wouldn’t have decided to use the hairbrush unless she had truly earned it. Maybe it is my Catholic background and the concept of penance. I don’t think that concept carries the same weight in the CoE so the concept of forgiveness after doing her penance doesn’t leave her feeling forgiven.
For my part there is something a bit special about using the brush. It makes her bottom pink and rosy in a special way that no other implement does. There is also something that really turns me on about how much she struggles to cope with it that gives it an extra bit of spice for me.
The fact that is is just a hairbrush and spends most of its time sitting to the side, looking as if it is only there to help with the parting for her hair is just an added bonus. Because it is so innocent and ordinary it makes the act of picking it up and preparing to use it full of special import that speaks to a core part of our D/s relationship.
Or at least it does to me.