I know, I know... long time, no blog.
So how about I make it up to you?
Remember Lettie and Andrew from In Need of Correction? Well, they're back in the Six of the Best British Spankings anthology and Lettie is about to discover that married women get waaaaay more spankings than their unmarried counterparts...
“Fetch your hairbrush, Laetitia.”
Lettie gasped and unclenched her arms at once, whirling around to face her husband. “I will do no such thing!”
“You will,” he replied, his voice calm but firm, “Or I shall send my manservant to fetch a horse whip from the stables.”
Lettie’s mouth fell open. Surely he could not be in earnest?
Andrew’s frown deepened. “I warn you not to try my patience, Laetitia. I am in no humour to entertain sulking or disobedience. Now bring me your hairbrush this instant.”
With a cold glare at her husband, Lettie pressed her lips tightly closed together and stomped over to her dressing table. How dare he order about in such a fashion! This was all the fault of those odious Nicholsons! How could he be so cruel as to take their part over hers? He was being intolerable! When her fingers closed around the smooth wooden handle of the brush, Lettie was seized with a sudden, reckless impulse and – before she truly knew what she was about – she had thrown the brush across the room towards Andrew.
It landed a few inches shy of his feet, clattering hard against the bare floorboards.
As the full enormity of what she had just done hit her, Lettie clapped her hands over her mouth. Oh Lord, what had she been thinking?
Without a word, Andrew bent down and retrieved the brush. He then strode over to where Lettie still stood covering her mouth, took her firmly by the elbow and marched her over to their bed.
“I see this is long overdue,” said Andrew, his voice tight. He sat down upon the edge of the bed and, without ceremony, tipped his wife over his lap.
“Forgive me!” gasped Lettie as she braced her palms against the floorboards. “I should not have thrown it. I truly do not know what came over me. I - ”
“Hold your tongue, young lady!” Andrew began at once to pull up her skirts and petticoats, baring her legs and bottom. Lettie had hardly a moment to register the cold air against her naked skin before her husband’s hand smacked down hard on her bottom and at once transformed the slight chill into a fiery sting.
“Oh!” She had forgotten what a real punishment felt like. However, as her husband’s merciless palm descended again and again with heavy, forceful smacks, the memory swiftly returned to her. And this was only his hand! At the thought of that horrid, unyielding hairbrush punishing her already tender bottom, Lettie began to whimper.
Uh oh, poor Lettie...
So, in honour (dishonour?) of Lettie's little tantrum with the hairbrush, my implement from the treasure box is a hairbrush.
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