Julie 1998: Bedtime Spanking

Continued from: Julie 1998: Hit me baby one more time

[spanking] [masturbation] [daddy issues] [teen]

Dear Diary, 

It's been a few weeks since that incident with Chad in the locker room and later in his basement. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. The way he dominated me, the way he made me feel...it was unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. 

But now that I've had a taste, the feeling is even more intense. I've been craving a spanking like never before. The thought of my stepdad taking me over his knee, pulling down my panties, and reddening my ass with his strong hand...it makes me so wet, I can hardly stand it. 

So tonight, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I waited until everyone was asleep, then I tiptoed downstairs, my heart pounding with excitement and nerves. 

First, I went to the kitchen and grabbed a wooden spoon from the drawer. It felt heavy and sturdy in my hand, and I knew it would hurt deliciously when it came down on my bare ass. Next, I sneaked into the bathroom and took a hairbrush from the vanity. The smooth back was stiff and hard, and I shivered at the thought of it connecting with my sensitive bum. Finally, I crept into Daddy's room and took his leather belt from the closet. It was thick and heavy, the kind of belt that was well-worn and rugged. I hugged it to my chest, savouring the feel of the cold leather against my skin. 

With all my implements gathered, I made my way back to my room, careful not to make a sound. I closed the door behind me and locked it, then arranged the spoon, the hairbrush, and the belt neatly on my bed. 

Then, slowly, teasingly, I stripped off my clothes, letting them fall to the floor in a puddle at my feet. I stood there naked, looking at the implements on the bed in anticipation while placing my hands on my head. 

I walked over to the corner of the room and pressed my nose against the wall, just like I would if Daddy had sent me there to wait for my punishment. I imagined him standing behind me, his eyes roaming over my naked body, his cock hardening in his pants. 

After a few minutes, I turned around and walked over to the bed. I picked up the wooden spoon and bent over some stacked pillows with my legs spread wide. I took a deep breath and brought the spoon down hard on my left cheek. The pain was instant and intense, and I gasped out loud. But it felt so good, so right. I smacked myself again and again, alternating between cheeks, until my ass was red and stinging. 

Then I picked up the hairbrush. The bristles felt like needles as I scraped them across my tender flesh. I cried out with each smack of the brush, biting my lip to keep from making too much noise. The pain was exquisite, and I found myself grinding my hips against the pillows, my pussy aching for release. 

Finally, I picked up the belt. I knew this one would hurt the most, and I was almost afraid to do it. But I couldn't stop myself. I needed the pain, needed the release that only Daddy's belt would provide. I stood up and bent over the back of a chair, presenting my ass to the imaginary Daddy behind me. I took a deep breath, then swung the belt down hard across both cheeks. 

The pain was extraordinary, and I screamed out the word, "Daddy". But I didn't stop. I kept whipping myself, over and over, until my ass was covered in angry red welts and I had tears in my eyes.

And then, suddenly, I felt it. The orgasm came out of nowhere as my fingers travelled between my legs, ripping through my body like a hurricane. I screamed and thrashed on the bed, my pussy convulsing and my juices gushing out of me and I mauled at my little titties and hardened nipples. 

It was the most intense orgasm of my life, and it went on and on, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over me. When it was finally over, I collapsed onto the bed, panting and shaking. 

I lay there for a long time, my body still tingling with aftershocks. I couldn't believe what I had just done. Spanking myself while pretending it was my stepdad, then cumming the way I did?! Like seriously...

I had never felt so naughty, so dirty, so completely in thrall to my darkest desires. But even as I basked in the afterglow, I knew it wasn't enough. I needed more, I was a junkie now. I needed Daddy to punish me for real, to make me scream and beg and cry like a little girl. 

And I knew deep down, that he wanted it too, the moment I turned eighteen. I could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn't watching. He wanted to dominate me, to control me, to make me his and tame this wild child. 

I stood up slowly from the bed, my legs still shaking from the intensity of my orgasm and my self-inflicted spanking. I looked behind at my naked body, taking in the red welts that crisscrossed my ass and the glistening wetness between my thighs. 

I felt so naughty, so shameful, standing there with the evidence of my own depravity on display. But at the same time, I felt more alive than I ever had before. It was as if the pain and humiliation had awakened something deep inside me, something dark and primal and uncontrollable. 

I knew I should put my clothes back on and go to bed, try to forget about the twisted thoughts that filled my head. But I couldn't resist the urge to push myself further and prolong my simulated punishment. 

So I walked back over to the corner of the room, my bare feet padding softly against the carpet. I pressed my nose against the wall once again, just like a naughty little girl. I put my hands on my head, interlocking my fingers and bowed my head in submission. 

I squeezed my thighs together tightly, trying to ease the ache in my pussy that still hadn't subsided. My feet were pressed together, the toes pointing inwards like a ballerina, and my ass was thrust out behind me, the redness from my spanking on full display. 

I stood there for what felt like hours, my mind racing with dirty thoughts. I imagined Daddy walking in and finding me like this, naked and vulnerable and so desperately in need of his firm hand to continue what I started. I pictured him taking me over his knee, his strong hands pinning my arm behind my back as he brought his palm down hard on my bare ass. It was so vivid in my mind, a mental rehearsal that felt so real to me. 

So I made a decision tonight, right there in the corner. I would find a way to make Daddy punish me, or even ask him to punish me, to make him see me as the naughty little girl I truly was. I would push his buttons, test his limits, until he had no choice but to take me over his knee and spank me like the bad girl I am. 

And after Daddy punishes me, would he want to take me, to claim me as his own? The eighteen-year-old Julie Delmar. 

Would you? 

Julie

Continued in: Disappointed Daddy

 

The Mad Scientist

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Cornertime Revelation

Continued from: My Finest Work

[M/f] [F/f] [spanking] [corner time] [age regression] [BDSM] [power dynamics] [lezdom] 

Written by Skylar St. Germaine 

Close A.I....very close *shrug* 

It won't give me a red, spanked bum, but it'll nail the ugly wallpaper...

As I stood in the corner, my mind raced, my thoughts spiraling in a whirlwind of analysis and introspection. And suddenly, amidst the chaos, a moment of clarity emerged, crystalline and sharp, cutting through the fog of the session. I remembered Eesha, my former roommate, the girl who had first introduced me to the world of spanking and discipline. 

The link to that original story, you can find here: Roommates

I recalled the night she had come to me, her eyes downcast, her voice trembling, admitting her struggles with her studies. She had begged me to help her, to motivate her, to provide the structure and accountability she so desperately needed. And I now understood why Eesha had sought out this unique form of "help", why she had returned to it again and again, despite the embarrassment, the discomfort, the indignity of being spanked as an adult woman. 

It was a form of catharsis, a purging of guilt and shame, a cleansing of the soul. It was for her, a means of atonement, a pathway to redemption, a roadmap to forgiveness. The countless hours I made her stand in various corners of our dorm room and later our shared house, I understood now, being in the same humiliating predicament with my red bottom bare and displayed. 

The revelation hit me like a bolt of lightning, searing through my consciousness, igniting a fire in my belly. Eesha. My dear, sweet, Doctor Patel. How could I have forgotten her, abandoned her, left her to flounder and struggle alone when she has such a burning need for discipline. 

I imagined Eesha now, a successful dentist, still harbouring that deep-seated desire for structure and discipline. We hadn't seen each other in years, yet this is the young woman who bared her bottom and draped her little frame over my knee, so many years ago, then thanked me for punishing her. 

The last time I reached out to her was right after my on-boarding at The Facility, when I realized this world of kink, of adult accountability via spanking and all the other wonderful facets Mistress Andrea showed me, actually exists. 

That story was called: Doctor Patel

"Miss me? 💓" - with the heart emoji, is all I sent to her. And her reply...should have been a clue that she once again needs my strict lap, my firm hand. 

"More than you know," was Eesha's response, one that I never acted upon. 

Perhaps, I mused, it was time to reconnect with her, to share my newfound insights and experiences from The Facility. Yes, I resolved, as I shifted my weight from foot to foot, my bottom still smarting from Daddy's firm hand - I had to reach out to her.

With my skirt and panties finally returned to me and a parting hug from Russell, I text-messaged Eesha right away. 

The text exchange started off innocuously enough, with the usual pleasantries and catching up. But as the conversation progressed, I couldn't resist testing the waters, probing for signs of the old dynamics that had once defined our relationship. 

When I suggested meeting up at a very swanky restaurant, her excitement was palpable, even through the screen. That's when I knew I had her hooked. I gave her specific instructions on how to dress - elegantly, but with a hint of something more. Gold, high, strappy heels that would mimic the look of bondage on her feet. I even told her the colour and style of panties I expected her in. 

Each command was met with eager compliance, culminating in a simple yet telling response: "Yes, Ma'am." The power dynamic of old, was reestablished once more, and I could practically feel the electricity crackling through the air. Meanwhile, Eesha didn't even know where I now worked, I wondered how she would react to my new role as a dominatrix in a kink studio. In any event, she was about to find out, we set dinner plans the following night, at the swankiest place in town...

**************************

As I strode into the lobby of the restaurant, clad in a little black mini-dress and towering heels that accentuated my sculpted physique, I could feel the collective gaze of every patron lock onto me. The men's eyes traced the contours of my muscles, their expressions a mix of envy and lust. The women, probably wanting to bed me too, regarded me with a blend of admiration and jealously, their own insecurities laid bare by my unapologetic display of strength and sexuality.

I reveled in the attention, knowing full well the power I held over them all. But my focus remained singularly on Eesha, my former roommate and submissive, whom I had summoned here tonight for reasons both personal and professional. 

After a few moments sitting at the bar, I caught her glowing radiance as she entered. I quickly composed a text message and hit send: 

"omfg you're still gorgeous!"  

Her dress, white and elegant, hugged her curves in a way that betrayed her eagerness to please. The gold, strappy heels I had instructed her to wear, glinted in the dim lighting, drawing the eye upward to the side-slit, which cascaded dangerously high on her thighs. Seeing my message, she looked up from her phone, smiling, scanning the room to find me at the bar. 

"Hello, E," I purred, my voice dripping with seduction as I stood to greet her. I enveloped her in a warm embrace, my hands instinctively finding their way to her bottom as I spoke, "it's been too long." 

I laid several loving smacks on her bum cheek as I hugged her, each one eliciting a soft gasp from her lips. The message was clear: it hadn't just been too long since we'd seen each other, but also too long since she'd received a proper, good, old-fashioned, spanking. 

I could feel the tension in her body, the way she melted into my touch, even as she squirmed slightly beneath my palm. It was a reaction I recognized all too well, once that spoke volumes about her deep-seated need for discipline and structure. 

As we settled back into our seats, I studied her closely, taking mental notes on every nuance of her behaviour. The way her eyes darted nervously around the room, as if afraid someone might recognize her. I knew it was time to put her obedience to the test. Leaning in close, I whispered my command directly into her ear, my breath hot against her skin. 

"Stand up and go to the little girl's room, Eesha. Take your panties off and bring them back to me." 

Her eyes widened in shock, once again scanning all around the restaurant as if seeking an escape route. But I could also see the flicker of excitement behind her apprehension, the trill of submitting to my will in such a public setting. 

This was going to be a very interesting evening indeed! 

Sky  

Continued in: Pasteurized

The Goth Girls

Continued from: Our Anchor

[F/ff] [spanking] [hairbrush] [cornertime] [humiliation] [mother-daughter] [OTK] [family taboo]

As I surveyed the scene before me, I couldn't help but feel a sense of deep satisfaction. Russell and Sarah Jane had settled comfortably into our home, their presence bringing a new energy and vitality to the space that often feels empty and cavernous when it's not bustling with clients. 

Summer and I had gone out of our way to ensure that they felt welcome and at ease, providing them with everything they needed to begin the process of healing and rebuilding. With Cassandra still here, we felt like a little family again. I had a warm tingling in my heart, bringing them under my roof as the matriarch and head of household (HoH). 

But like any family, it is not immune to problems at times, and there was one lingering issue that gnawed at the edges of my consciousness - the ongoing rift between Cassandra and her mother, Bella. It had been months since the sudden and secret wedding in England, and the two had scarcely exchanged a word or message in all that time. 

Cassandra has always regarded me as a mother-figure to her, but I can never be a replacement of her actual mother. It was up to me to intervene, and make things right between these two, even if it hurts a little. 

I slipped away to a quiet corner of the piano lounge and secretly accessed my phone. I had to play this one a little cloak and dagger, in order for it to work, so I made up some excuse to get Bella over to the house, without Cassandra knowing. 

I sort of eluded to Summer to make herself and our guests scarce for a bit. She cooked up a plan to take Russell and Sarah Jane shopping for clothes, both of their wardrobes and all of Sarah's DDLG, specialty and submissive wear was destroyed by the fire. Of course the two of them were bouncing off the walls at the prospect of shopping for age regressed clothing together. Russell just followed along like a Dad, taking two excited, pre-teen girls to the mall.

With Bella on the way, I tried to broach the subject with Cassandra yet again and immediately she got her back up, until suddenly, I heard the front door and asked Cassie to follow behind me. 

The moment Bella stepped through the doorway, I could feel the temperature in the room drop several degrees. Clad in her signature red satin dress, her legs encased in dark hose and her feet perched atop towering heels, she was the very picture of elegance and sophistication. 

But the icy glare she directed at Cassandra told a different story altogether - one of simmering resentment and barely contained hostility. 

"Mother." Cassandra greeted her, her voice dripping with venom as she spat the word from her mouth. 

I attempted to calm Cassie's ferocity and ushered the two of them to a nearby couch. Sitting together, like two bickering siblings with me towering over them, I tried to calm the waters as best I could, but I knew that drastic measures were called for. 

Both women had experienced my firm hand before, submitting to the stinging correct of my hairbrush, my strap. But never had I punished them together, in the same room, forcing them to witness each other's humiliation and surrender.

I knew that it was precisely what was needed to break the cycle of resentment and hostility that had taken root between mother and daughter. Only by stripping away their defenses, by reducing them to their most vulnerable and childlike states, could I hope to guide them towards a place of forgiveness and understanding. 

I stood dramatically and slammed my high-heeled foot against the floor, shocking them to attention. 

"Enough! This ends now!"

"Cassandra Leigh, Isabella Octavia, get yourselves up to my room this minute!" 

To my satisfaction, the Goth women immediately bowed their heads in submission, their voices soft and compliant as they responded in unison, "yes, Ma'am." 

"In your underwear, facing the wall," I added, as the two of them scurried up the grand staircase and out of sight. 

I took my time, letting them stew in their shared predicament, before my heels eventually connected with the hardwood staircase slowly, deliberately, a commanding strut. 

I found them as instructed, wearing their undergarments only and standing shoulder to shoulder in my bedroom, facing the wall. Their previous bickering had morphed into a nervous silence that I quickly broke. 

"The two of you are going to get a spanking, right in front of one another. A good, hard, bare-bottomed spanking, the likes of which is long overdue, ladies." As I spoke, I could see their bodies tense and shoulders lurch forward as they remained silent with their heads bowed in shame.

Clutched in my hands, were two school uniforms, almost identical in style and vulnerability. The skirts were impossibly short, a length that would barely cover their plump asses, the tops were tiny too, a size too small for the ladies. Completing the ensemble were knee-high socks in a crisp white, and shiny black Mary Janes with buckled straps. 

"If you two are going to insist on behaving like a pair of petulant schoolgirls," I declared, my voice laced with disdain, "then you're going to be treated like that." With that, I tossed the outfits onto the bed, watching with amusement at how horrified they both were. The two Goth girls were not strangers to being taken over my knee while dressed in such vulnerable attire, but again, never together in the same room. 

"Go into the bathroom and strip, you two," I ordered aggressively. "Then put your uniforms on and report right back to this corner!" 

I was being so demanding in my tone that I didn't hear so much as a peep of protest out of these two, about the embarrassment of the situation, about the uniforms. I think they realized just how real this spanking was going to be, and suddenly, they were on their best behaviour. 

In dramatic fashion, I positioned two straight-backed, wooden chairs into the middle of the bedroom, strategically close to my dresser, which housed several hairbrushes and my leather strap. 

As I waited outside the bathroom door, I could hear the muffled sounds of movement and whispered conversation coming from within, the telltale signs of Cassandra and Bella struggling to come to terms with their predicament. 

"Sit!" I hissed, as the two Goth girls emerged from the bathroom in their crisp white knee socks, staring down at their glossy Mary Janes in shame and humiliation. 

I circled them like a predator, scolding them the entire time and reminding them about the loving bond only family can provide. "All this fighting and bickering stops today, and we'll stay in this room, spanking you one-by-one, until you're ready to accept that, ladies." 

With my final threat of what was to come, I had both women stand for me. 

"Cassandra Leigh, put your chair in the corner of the room, sit down and face the wall," I commanded. 

"Isabella, pull your panties down to your knees and get over my lap." 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: It Will Heal