Julie 1998: Disappointed Daddy

Continued from: Bedtime Spanking

[M/f] [spanking] [ddlg] [Daddy] 

"No," I said defiantly, crossing my arms over my chest and trying to push my little titties up even higher. "I'm an adult and I can wear whatever I want!" 

This was the nightmare I put my step-daddy through, on almost a daily basis. I was bitchy, I was defiant and I was spoiled...not to mention the occasional moments I'd crank my Britney CD and practice her dances in just my bra and panties. 

"Oh, Daddy...oopsie, I didn't think you were home." The venomous innocence would drip from my lips as I made a weak effort to cover myself up, scampering away on my tip toes. 

But eventually, I pushed too far and I did something I never ever thought I would do... 

I disappointed Daddy. 

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

August 5th, 1998 

Dear Diary, 

Oh my God, I can't believe what just happened. I'm shaking so hard I can barely write this. But I have to get it all down before I forget a single detail. Because I know I'm going to be thinking about this moment for the rest of my life. 

Last night, I came home late from a concert. Like way past curfew and dressed like a complete hoochie. 

I knew Daddy was going to be mad, but I was having so much fun, I just lost track of time. When I finally got home, he was waiting up for me in the living room. 

His face was dark and stormy, and I could tell he was furious. I braced myself for a lecture, a fight. But instead, he just looked at me with such disappointment in his eyes. 

"I trusted you, Julie," he said, his voice quiet and sad. "You've disappointed me." 

I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. Hearing the disappointment in his voice was worse than any punishment he could have given me. I pouted and burst into tears, stammering out apologies and promises to do better. 

But Daddy just shook his head and sent me to bed, a long walk of shame up the stairs. 

I cried myself to sleep, feeling like the worst daughter in the world. I knew I had to make things right with Daddy. I had to show him that I was sorry, and that I would never let him down again. 

So this morning, I woke up early and crept downstairs to the living room wearing only a little pink nightie. Daddy was already up, reading the paper and sipping his coffee. I stood there for a moment, just watching him. He looked so handsome and strong, with his chiseled jaw and his broad shoulders. I felt a little flutter in my stomach, like always when I looked at him. 

Taking a deep breath, I walked into the room, holding out the belt I'd taken from his closet. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst out of my chest. But I forced myself to speak, my voice barely above a whisper. 

"Daddy," I said, my eyes fixed on the floor. "I'm so sorry about last night. I know I messed up. And I know I deserve to be punished."

I held out the belt, my hands shaking like leaves. "So I brought this. I thought...I thought maybe you should spank me. On my bare bottom. Like a little girl who needs to be taught a lesson."

I risked a glance up at Daddy, and saw his eyes widen in shock. For a moment, he just stared at me, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. And then, slowly, he set down his coffee cup and stood up from the couch. 

"Julie," he said, his voice low and serious. "Do you understand what you're asking me to do?" 

I nodded, my heart in my throat. "Yes, Daddy. I want you to spank me. I need it. Please." 

Daddy took a step towards me, his eyes searching mine. I could see the conflict in his gaze, the struggle between his love for me and his reluctance to physically punish me, But after a long, tense moment, he reached out and took the belt from my hands, doubling it over in his. 

"Alright, Julie," he said, his voice firm and decisive. "If this is what you think will work, then I'll give you the spanking you deserve. Go wait in your room, I'll be up in a little while to get you." 

I'm laying here on my bed, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. I can't believe I actually went through with it. I asked my step-father to spank me. With his belt. On my bare bottom, like a naughty little girl. And he said yes! 

Oh, Lord, what have I done? Why did I do this? What was I thinking? 

But I know why. I know exactly why I did it, why I've been brazenly misbehaving. Because I need this. I need to feel the sting of his palm on my skin, the sharp pain that will make me cry and beg for mercy. I need to be punished, to be shown that I'm still his little girl, that he still cares enough to discipline me. 

I've been fantasizing about this for so long. Dreaming about Daddy taking me over his knee, pulling down my panties, and spanking me until my ass is red and sore. Imagining him scolding me, telling me what a bad girl I've been, how disappointed he is in me. And then, when it's all over, hugging me close and telling me he loves me, that I'm forgiven. 

But now that it's actually happening, I'm terrified. What if it hurts too much? What if Daddy sees the tender folds of my pussy becoming soaking wet and thinks I'm a freak?

I'm so nervous. I keep listening for the sound of his footsteps on the stairs, wondering when he'll come for me. Will he make me wait, let the anticipation build until I'm a quivering wreck? Or will he come bursting in, belt in hand, ready to teach me a lesson I'll never forget.

I can't stop squirming on the bed, my ass tingling with anticipation. I'm so wet, my pussy is practically dripping. I know it's wrong, I know I shouldn't be turned on by this, but I can't help it. The thought of Daddy's strong hands on my body, his belt cracking against my flesh, it's making me crazy with desire. 

Oh, God, I think I hear him coming! My heart is racing, my palms are sweaty. I'm trying to stay calm, to breathe deeply, but it's no use. 

Please, Daddy, be gentle with me. But not too gentle. I need this. I've needed this for such a long time. I need you. 

I love you so much. 

Julie. 

Continued in: She gets the belt

 

Miss Julie's Blog

 Continued from: A Star is Born

For anyone else who noticed, who may go online and check Miss Julie's blog daily, as part of their morning routine, right between coffee and checking the news...her blog is gone.

She didn't ghost her fans and in-fact, was kind enough to send me an email this morning, affirming that she herself is okay, which would have been a worry of many of her fans upon seeing the sudden disappearance. 

Two people even commented about the disappearance on my last story, which first alerted me to this shocking development. In the event you haven't read all of my blog, it was Miss Julie's blog and her content that ultimately inspired me to begin this one. We collaborated on several occasions and truly rooted for each other, leading to many red bottoms and many hours spent in the timeout corner, both fictional and IRL.  

It is with profound sadness that due to content policy, her entire blog was "nuked", as she put it. 

In Julie's developer view, all of her content is still in-tact and preserved for her, but the public-facing version that we are accustomed to seeing, is gone.

I asked if she would like to use my blog to make a formal "statement" to all of her fans and what may come next for her or from her. She is considering this option. 

Please stay tuned. 

Mistress Andrea xo  

I asked the A.I. to make the saddest version it could of me: 

Julie’s blogger obituary, sent to me this afternoon:

Hi all,

Julie from the old ‘Strict Julie Spanks!’ blog. Thank you to Mistress Andrea for offering to post this for me.

Google deleted my blog and gmail account for terms of service violations. The terms have always been strict, officially banning most types of pornography. However, the algorithms seemed to be permissive, letting a lot slip through the cracks. But I think I raised the ire of their algorithms with a story or two about older teens under 18 being spanked and having sexual thoughts about their spankings. At no point was there any action described between adults and minors, nor any images depicting it. But I guess my writing what I did was enough. I tried to appeal, but it was no good. I never had any opportunity to interact with a human so far as I know, but I would have offered up a spanking (either way) and a blowjob if they had, so I guess they miss out!

The blog had a great run. I started it in November, 2011, so it lasted almost 14 years and picked up over 17M views across more than 300K unique users. I posted some absolutely outrageous stuff, and most of it pretty true where not marked otherwise!

While the blog started femdom, I did a couple of “brand extensions”, adding femsub stuff as I got interested in playing with that, and later adding more political posts as I developed an interest in that. My husband and I have calmed down over the past few years, and I moved the blog towards AI-assisted fiction and politics. Each brand change lost me viewers overall, but it was only fun for me if it evolved with me and matched my current interests, so I kept doing that despite the decline and the potential dangers of political speech mixed in.

Overall, though, there was a much more significant drop in viewership when google implemented tougher age restrictions and prevented search engines from indexing adult content. Any new content on a blogger NSFW blog has a hard time being found nowadays. Moreover, written word blogs have seen their day. Young people don’t have the attention span for the most part. So, it was dying a bit anyways, and all google did was put it out of its misery! Honestly, I knew I was courting disaster with my content, but didn’t much care, and feel surprisingly “unburdened by what has been”, to quote my hero, Kamala.

Thank you to all my loyal readers over the years, it’s been a blast! I’ll likely continue writing fiction and perhaps some non-fiction regarding spanking in book form on kindle from time to time (as Julie Delmar), and I may or may not start up another, tamer blog. I’m on the fence about it.

If you’d like to reach out, you can email me at strictjuliedelmar at google dot com.

So long, and thanks for all the fish!

Continued in: Alice in Wonderland

Roommates

Continued from: Boardrooms & Bedrooms

[F/f] [spanking] [OTK] [hairbrush] [cornertime] [tears] [humiliation]

If you remember, during the last post, my ears perked up like a deer, when young Skylar casually made a comment about spanking her roommate in university. That's right, this Skylar, the Librarian, with absolutely no experience in BDSM: 

My mind spun a visual of two giggling 19-year-olds with tequila on their breath, tickling and wrestling on their single beds after the bar. A couple smacks on the bum for one of them being too drunk, followed by a pass-out and the promise of a hangover the next morning. 

"No, it was for REAL." Skylar corrected, and began to tell me the whole story. 

By the end of her tale my mouth was dry, my jaw was on the floor, and the butterflies in my tummy were raging like a storm. 

Skylar has published papers, written a doctoral thesis and obviously reads like a fiend. She is very well-written and well-spoken. I thought I would ask her to write this one herself, she reluctantly agreed. Take it away, Sky. 

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

I remember the day we met like it was yesterday. I had just finished unpacking my bags in our shared dorm room, my muscles aching from the effort of lugging my belongings up three flights of stairs. As I stood there, surveying my already cluttered space, the door swung open and in walked this vision of exotic beauty. 

"Hi, I'm Eesha Patel," she said in a subdued tone. 

Eesha was petite, with long, raven-black hair. Her almond shaped eyes were green, framed by impossibly long lashes, and her lips were set in a shy smile. She was dressed simply, in jeans and a loose t-shirt.

I introduced myself, exchanging pleasantries and discussing our fields of study. Eesha was going to be a doctor. I could sense a tension in her, a coiled energy that seemed at odds with her gentle demeanour.

Over the next few months, as we settled into our routines, I noticed small things about Eesha. The way she would bite her lip when in deep thought, the nervous habit of twirling a lock of hair around her finger when stressed. She confided in me about her struggles with the demanding course load, her fear of falling behind. 

One day, in our second semester, Eesha burst into our room, her face flushed with anger and disappointment. She slammed her backpack onto her bed, sending papers flying everywhere. I looked up from my computer, startled by the sudden commotion. 

"What's wrong?" I asked, concern etched on my face. Eesha turned to me, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. 

"I failed," she whispered, her voice trembling. 

"Failed? But you're one of the top students at this entire university!" I protested, rising from my bed to comfort her. 

Eesha shook her head vehemently. "No, you don't understand. I got an 86 on my biochemistry exam."

I frowned, confused. "But that's a great mark. What's the problem?" 

Eesha sank onto her bed, her shoulders slumping. "In my family, anything less that a 90 is considered a failure. If my parents knew..." She trailed off, a shudder running through her body. 

"When I was younger, if I ever brought home a grade like this, my mother...my father would..." She hesitated, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. "They would punish me," she admitted in a rush, her gaze fixed on the floor. 

I stared at her, shock and something else, something darker and more thrilling, coursing through me. "Like…Spank you? For getting a B+?" 

Eesha nodded miserably. 

"I know it sounds crazy, but it's how I was raised. The fear of disappointing them, of facing that punishment...it drove me to excel. And now, here I am, failing without that motivation. 

The next evening, as we prepared for bed, the atmosphere in our room was thick with tension. Eesha moved silently, her movements jerky and uncertain. She was dressed in a simple tee and sleep shorts, as I was. 

She climbed into bed and paused, her hand trembling as she reached for something on her nightstand. Slowly, she turned to face me, her eyes downcast, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. In her hand was the crumpled test paper, the damming 86 circled in angry red ink. Without a word she held it out to me, her arm shaking slightly. I took the paper, smoothing it out on my lap, my heart pounding in my chest. 

When I looked up, Eesha had sunk to her knees beside my bed, her head bowed low. "Please," she whispered, her voice barley audible, "I need you to punish me. Like my parents would. I deserve it for failing." 

I stared at her, my mouth suddenly dry, my palms sweating. The sight of her, so vulnerable, so desperate, ignited something within me. A darkness I had always known lurked beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to emerge. I swallowed hard, my gaze flicking from the test paper to Eesha's trembling form. 

I sat up straighter on my bed, the test paper crumpled in my fist. 

"Eesh, I...I wouldn't know what to do," I admitted, my voice wavering. "I've never done anything like this befo…" But even as the words left my mouth, Eesha stood and remained silent, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her pajama shorts. With agonizing slowness, she slid them down to her ankles, then completely off her socked feet. 

Then, in one fluid motion, she gripped the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it up, exposing the smooth expanse of her tummy and lower back. Before I could utter another word, she had draped herself across my lap, her body warm and pliant against mine. 

My hand hovered above the rounded globes of her bare bum, trembling slightly, as I fought the urge to caress her. Eesha's Sobs filled the room and I knew I couldn't deny her this, we had become such great friends over the past months. 

"Please Skylar," she wept, her voice raw with desperation. "Punish me, hard! I need it...I deserve it."

Goddess Sky

nee:

Dr. Skylar St. Germaine 

Continued in: Doctor Patel

 

"Big-Girl" Room

Continued from: Beautiful Brainwashing Pt. 2

A Sarah Jane story

My first day of "big girl" school! Why was I so nervous?

Mistress Andrea and "Daddy" did a lovely job on my new room. It had a petulant teenager feel to it and rather than having to sleep in a frilly pink, princess bed, I now had a big-girl bed. Hopefully I'll be permitted to do big-girl "things" in it (*giggle*).

I requested of Mistress, that my room still have a lockable cell door. I still wanted to feel like I was at her BDSM Facility against my will. Forced to dress as my owners wish, forced to perform degrading sexual acts and punished when I do not. The consensual non-consent element of my time at the Facility was all part of my fetish and my fantasy.

They happily obliged and each evening I spent at the Facility and other times throughout the day when I was idle, I spent that time locked behind heavy, steel bars. 

Daddy "tucked me in" last night, before locking my cell. Since my recent age-progression promotion, my bedtime attire now allowed for cute satin slips, teddies and babydolls. I knew Daddy was coming down to do our bedtime ritual, so I picked out a cute little cami, I didn't wear any panties and I attached a collar around my neck that had the lettering "DADDY" on it. Super cute right?

As per the rules of our bedtime ritual, over I went. Over Daddy's knee for a loving and caring spanking before bed, followed by a quick dose of Daddy's belt. Daddy enters my room and without saying anything, sits on the edge of my bed. I immediately rush to his right side and drape myself across his lap. We do this every evening that I stay here. 

After I am sufficiently spanked and strapped, part of our ritual, one of my favourtie parts actually, involves Daddy's tongue on and in my little bum hole. He gives me special Daddy kisses on my little pucker while I masturbate for him. I love bedtime with Daddy! 

The next morning after I got myself ready and made-up, I thumbed through my new wardrobe with delight. Yes, the style of my attire was still schoolgirl, which is embarrassing for me to wear as a 40-year-old woman, but these new clothes were more grown-up. 

Knee socks had been replaced with dark tights and over the knee stockings and my patent Mary Janes had been replaced with three and four-inch heels. I felt sexy! I was really fucking aroused. I thought I should deal with myself before school. 

My previous bedroom came with colouring books, diaper cream and Legos to play with. My big-girl room came with toys too! I not only had a Hitachi, but also a great big dildo to play with. All the books provided in my room were BDSM erotica and soft-cover, spanking fiction written by an author named Julie Delmar. I even had a little photo board which shamefully displayed images of me performing various straight and lesbian sex acts. *BLUSH!!

Needless to say, the new room seemed to be encouraging...of self pleasure and arousal. 

Just as I was really getting down to business, using my body like a personal amusement park, Daddy walked into the basement and caught me. 

I think I went white. All of my face-flushing colour I caused from masturbating, drained away instantly. I thought I was in so much shit! I thought I would be sleeping on my tummy for a month.

Daddy told me to get up on the bed on my hands and knees. I obeyed immediately. 

When I heard the unmistakable jingle of his belt buckle, I just shut my eyes and gritted my teeth. I was fending off butterflies and waiting for that first lash of leather to sear across my bare ass and likely graze my puffy, pussy lips. 

The sharp crack of Daddy's belt never came. I stayed in position with my bare ass in the air. I dared not look back. I just remained in position with my lower back arched.  

The reason I wasn't being belt whipped, was that Daddy's belt was still in his pants...that were now on the floor, along with all of his other clothing.

He came up behind me, grabbed a handful of my hair and plunged his raging cock directly into my pussy. 

Daddy fucked me good and hard on my big-girl bed, right before school that morning! 

Is this what grown-up girls at the Facility get, at this stage?! No longer spanked for being naughty, they get fucked instead?!! Wtf?? 

I think I was starting to like this big-girl concept!

When Daddy pulled out I laid on my back and opened my mouth for him, displaying my eagerness, showing him that I was in-fact a big-girl now. 

He came into my mouth while he fucked my throat and I cleaned my own pussy flavours off his cock. 

Nothing was said about being caught with my Hitachi. Maybe this is what a "punishment" actually means now, for a big-girl. 

We tidied up quickly and I found my extremely short kilt to go with my outfit. Daddy took me by the hand and led me upstairs to find Mistress. I didn't want to be late for my first day of senior school.

Could you imagine?? 

"I'm sorry I'm late Mistress, Daddy caught me masturbating in my room so he fucked me and came into my mouth. That's why I'm running behind."

Could you imagine her face!! Gawd, I'd be in so much trouble!

Mistress is so pretty! Even when she's angry. 

Sarah Jane 

xoxo

Continued in: Senior School