Miss Julie books the Taboo Farmhouse

Continued from: Brutalized in the Factory

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The original farmhouse story: Taboo Farmhouse

Mrs. Julie Delmar, stricken with butterflies and involuntary spikes of arousal, didn't really know what to think, as she drove herself to the farmhouse. She arranged through The Facility to undergo an immersive, therapeutic experience that she knew without question, would involve childish discipline practices and deep age regression. 

Moments earlier, Julie kissed her husband David goodbye and told him that she was attending a country retreat for the weekend. Not quite a spa, not quite a B&B, but she was optimistic to undergo whatever tough-love this experience might provide her.  

In her mind, as she drove to the farmhouse, she was already role-playing a younger version of herself. A rude and disrespectful little shit with a chip on her shoulder, who was fast approaching her sweet-sixteen. She felt shame and guilt when she thought about this version of herself and how she could have or should have been dealt with in those days. 

Now, well into adulthood, Julie hoped to make amends with her 16-year old self and face the consequences from a different time, amidst the backdrop of the retro living space of her "Auntie" and "Uncle".

"Ohhhh Ed! Look how much our darling Julie has grown!" Lorraine cooed out, clearly already in-character as their outfits also suggested. Julie nervously ascended the creaky steps on the front porch.

"Hi Auntie," Julie bashfully mewed-out in a bit of a baby-voice. 

"Hi Unckie Ed," she continued.  

Lorraine, clad in her satin gloves, went in for the timeless cheek-pinch of Julie's face.

"Look at you, Dear! You must be all of 14 now? 15?" Lorraine continued.

"I bet your Daddy will be shooing all the boys away soon, huh kiddo?" Ed quipped, all while leering at Julie's tiny little frame.  

Julie was taken aback at just how well these two were playing into their roles. You see, when Cassandra and I first sent Julie her welcome package to attend this weekend session, it contained a questionnaire that almost acted like a choose-your-own-adventure. 

A "Mommy" and "Daddy" session with your "siblings", or an "Auntie" and "Uncle" session with your "cousins". Julie chose the latter. 

Since the experience revolves around domestic discipline, punishment, humiliation and then emotional healing, clients are asked to select how this is prompted throughout the weekend, from a list of injects such as:

• A stern phone call from a neighbourhood mother?
• Overall piss-poor attitude?
• A note sent home with you from school?
• Disrespecting your elders?
• Caught smoking behind the big willow tree out the back?
• Caught masturbating?
• Caught in Mommy or Auntie's bedroom, going through her delicates drawer?

Some clients select all of the above...which is rather intense because they usually end up spending a majority of the weekend grounded, in the corner or being switched out in the woodshed. 

Julie's selections were a bit unique in that she chose a combination of attitude adjustment injects, like being tattled-on by her cousins, teachers and neighbourhood mothers, but she also wanted to be caught masturbating in her bedroom. 

Going through Auntie's panty drawer or being caught masturbating by "Mommy" was usually what the male clients consistently selected. 

Nevertheless, the customer is always right and Julie can have any manner of experience she wishes. 

Despite "Unckie" Ed's compassionate but slightly creepy comment out on the front porch, Julie's session was off to a good start.

"Ed-honey, help Julie with her bag." Lorraine caringly spoke. 

Julie entered the house for the first time and followed behind Lorraine's heel-clicks, as she guided a tour through the home.

When the tour finished in Uncle Ed's den, Julie could feel her face flush red and her heart flutter in her chest. 

Lorraine spoke sternly to the shamed girl in the corner. 

"Claire, your cousin Julie is here. Turn and face her to say hello, then turn back around and face the wall, you still have another thirty minutes to go young lady!"

This order was met with a very rapid, "yes Ma'am," that escaped Claire's lips. Julie was slowly learning the protocols and formalities of this household. 

Julie watched on in embarrassment, as the middle-aged woman with a soccer-mom vibe, who was currently dressed like a little girl, slowly turned around. 

"Hello Julie." She whispered out, with her eyes laced with shame and beginning to fill with tears. 

As instructed, she returned to her position with her nose to the corner and her hands on the head, now softly weeping. 

Julie was invited up to see her room to settle in. Following closely behind Lorraine, Julie thought she would try her luck and ask about Claire. 

"Auntie, why is Claire in time-out?"

"Ohhh the silly girl!" Lorraine replied. 

"She was holding a thermometer near a lamp then putting it in her mouth to claim she was sick. Just to get out of going to school, can you believe that?!" 

Julie held back a giggle, thinking about how retro of a move that was! The old thermometer stunt.

Lorraine continued talking as the two of them creaked up the stairs. 

"You know we're a bit old-fashioned here Julie. Your Uncle Ed and I have to punish Claire for her dishonesty. If she's claiming to be sick, then a good ole', sudsy enema should fix her right up, after your Uncle gives her a good whuppin' of course."

As she spoke she gestured to an open door. Julie looked inside...

She didn't know what was more frightening in that moment, the clinical enema bag prominently on display in the bathroom, or the dreadful colour scheme of the era. Julie had a moment of nostalgia, remembering an avocado-coloured fridge and stove in her own childhood home. Yet her mind still hung on the word “whuppin”, that she just heard escape Lorraine’s red lips.

Julie was seen to her room and given some time alone to process all of this. The room was definitely reflective of a childhood bedroom. Brutal wallpaper and décor, the odd remanence of a children's toy and a scent of cedar trunk and moth balls. 

Lorraine had told her there is a more "suitable" outfit for her in the armoire and that she was expected to dress and come downstairs when ready, to join her other cousin, Patrick.

Now with a better understanding of the gravity of consequences in this home, Julie responded to Lorraine with a, "yes Ma'am". 

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck! What have I done?!" She thought to herself, after laying eyes on her new outfit. 

"And with a male cousin in the home now too?! FUCK!"

Her butterflies were raging in her tummy as she began to slip into the pelerine knee socks. They had a vented little eyelet pattern which made her feel dainty and innocent.

Next came a Mary Jane style of heel, that wasn't quite a sandal but close enough. She did her hair in a more age regressed style with a flirty pony. 

The ensemble was clearly designed to emphasize and amplify her vulnerability and humiliation. This became more abundantly clear when Julie slipped the soft pastel dress over her head, letting her arms fall through the puffed sleeves and a gentle Peter Pan collar rested around her neckline. 

Always with a safeword in the back of her mind, Julie took a deep breath and left the bedroom. 

The floors creaked as Julie tiptoed down the hall and into this immersive world of shag carpets, wood paneling and the muffled sounds of Claire crying out from downstairs. 

"I'm sorry Daddy, I'll be a good girrrrrrrl!" As his belt snapped against her bare flesh.

Julie was terrified and shamefully aroused, all at once. 

To be continued...

Mistress Andrea

xoxo     

Continued in: Sears Wish Book