She was going through a phase in life where she wanted to redecorate various rooms in the house. The guest bathroom was her next target. Unfortunately plumbers and new fixtures were outside the budget, so she decided a simple repainting would have to do. She had always wanted a fancy, delicate looking bathroom, fit for a queen, but after bringing home many paint samples from the store she just wasn’t satisfied. None of them were the right shade of rich pink that she wanted. Then one day she had an idea and asked her husband for help. She brought him to the guest room, looked him straight in the eye, and told him to strip, assume his standard position at the bathtub, and wait for her to return. He recognized her tone of voice, and knew compliance was his only option. He stripped, folded his clothes, and placed them in a neat pile on the guest bed just as she had trained him to do. He took his place, bent over in front of the bathtub, and waited. His dangling cock began to swell with anticipation. She returned with her favorite hair brush and took up her usual position beside him. The first smack landed on his left cheek. He winced, but tried to remain as still as possible. “One” he said out loud. With his hands on the tub he could keep his torso fairly still, but he could not stop the sway of his cock. With each successive hit it swayed and swelled. After landing ten on the left and five on the right she took a step back to admire her work. It was a good start, but only a start. She set the hair brush aside and using her bare hand she repeated the ten on the left and five on the right. “Thirty” he obediently reported. While both cheeks were now showing signs of color, the left side was a bit more advanced. She studied his backside, his slightly spread legs, and his exposed cock and balls. She reached between his legs, grabbed his cock, and pulling it straight down gave it a few rough strokes. The downward angle was not the most comfortable direction for him, but her aggressive touch felt wonderful and helped grow his erection even more.

She returned to the hair brush, and with a stronger swing continued with ten on left, five on the right. Next she applied some peppermint hand lotion to his cheeks. She spread it all around and massaged it into his flesh. He was used to this. It was cool and soothing with a hint of tingle. It felt good, for now. With an open hand she landed another ten and five. The sound was a bit more crisp now, with a noticeable sting. Returning to the hair brush, she really leaned into the next 10, driving it over and over to the center of the left cheek. The fire he felt was testing his composure. He struggled to coordinate his breathing and swallowing with his vocal count.

When he reached 60 she paused again. She stood back, looking at him and then looking at the walls. She was almost done. The right cheek was looking very good, so she focused her hairbrush on the left. He continued to count, to 70, then 80, then with all her arm strength they reached 90. His skin was on fire, and he was choking to say the numbers out loud. His skin had passed a simple glow, beyond a tender red, it was on the cusp of darkening. The bruise tomorrow would be magnificent. She massaged some more lotion into his skin to bring out the richness of the hues. She was pleased with the colors now. With her phone she took some pictures. Some were wide showing him, the tub, and that entire side of the bathroom. Some were medium shots of his backside, including his dangling balls. And then she took some closeups, filling the frame each time with a single cheek. The walls would be the dark shade of his left cheek, and the trim would be the lighter tint of his right cheek. When she was happy with the photos she told him to get dressed, and meet her in the car. They would be going to the paint store to have custom paint blended to match the photos, and she wanted him to be there to see the process happen.