Tuesday, November 10, 2020

Liberals taught a lesson

 With the recent election and political climate in the States, it’s natural that my attention has been focused on what is going on. Jen and I aren’t overly political, but are left leaning, much to the dismay of most of our family. Jen especially grew up in a very conservative Republican household. Her parents home is prominently covered in Trump flags as we speak.

What did surprise me some, was that after admittedly reading some of Strict Julie’s most recent posts, I was overtaken by several dreams of being punished by a strong conservative woman for my “ridiculous socialist views”. 

I’ve written a story about what such a fantasy looks like in my head, but want to first point out that it is just this; a fantasy. I respect everyone’s political views, and don’t desire a pointless debate here. It’s not the place.


And with that, my story...

It’s been our habit the last few elections to take half days off work and go vote together. Jen and I typically go to dinner afterwards, and make a night watching the election returns. 

Our daughter spent the night this year with her grandparents, which gave us a rare night with some privacy! It’s exciting because it doesn’t happen often, and it’s been some time since we’ve had some alone time.

This year, we followed the same routine - both off after lunch, and I swang by the house to pick her up. Our polling place is close, in a local elementary school. Even with this years high turnout, we were able to get in and out pretty quickly. 

Getting home, we did a few chores around the house, tossing in some laundry and preparing dinner. Around 8, the results of the election were starting to come in and we sat down together, wine in hand. 

Jen flipped the TV on, and scrolled to Fox News. 

“I thought maybe we could watch a different station this year?” I offered. 

She snorted a little, sitting down, careful not to spill her wine. “Why? I don’t need to be lied to by some liberal media propagandist.”

“I don’t know I just thought maybe we would get a different view this year”.

She took a sip of her Pinot noir, crossed her legs and looked at me out of the side of her eye. “What are you talking about? I don’t think we need to hear from the media wing of Sleepy Joe’s campaign.” 

I was quiet. I didn’t know how to tell her, but after a lifetime voting Republican, I had changed my mind this year. I was turned off by some of what Trump was doing, and despite knowing she’d disagree vehemently, I decided to cast my vote for the Democrats.

She turned and looked at me full on. Cocking her head slightly, “Did you not vote for Trump?”

“I just think it might be time for someone else to try...”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Oh my god. Seriously? You know what he’s going to do to this country, and lord knows what he has going on in Ukraine with that son of his. Is that what you want for me? For your daughter?”

“I mean no, I just think that some of the language Trump uses isn’t appropri...”

“I don’t want to hear it Michael. I can’t believe you.”

I was still standing in front of her as she eyed me up and down. She took the glass of wine from my hand.

“I don’t think you need this, you’re clearly not going to behave like an adult, I suppose I’m going to have to treat this house as such”.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, we can still sit down togeth..”

“I don’t think so Michael. It’s people like you, apparently, that make a night like this stressful. You weren’t raised this way. Clearly the things you were taught growing up though didn’t take?”

“Jen I don’t know what...”

“Clothes off. Now. Rather than relaxing and sharing a bottle of wine, we will now be spending tonight remembering a few lessons you see to have forgotten.”

I knew better than to argue. I pulled my tshirt over my head, placing it on the chair to my side. I dropped my head, unclasping my belt and dropping my jeans past my knees. Stepping out of them and my socks, I felt very naked, even in my boxer briefs. 

When I finally looked up enough to see her face, she simply had a raised eyebrow. I was trying to keep a shred of hope she’d let me keep my underwear. Apparently not.

I turned to the side and pulled them down, stretching the waistband over my suddenly obvious erection. I hated that it happened every time she talked to me sternly. I stepped out and folded them on top of the rest of my clothes.

“Since you think your New Democrat friends know best, we are going to play a game to remind you what happens when they trick boys like you into supporting their socialist nonsense. We are going to watch the results come in. For every electoral vote that goes to Sleepy Joe, you’re going to get a stroke with the strap. You wanted him to win in a landslide, so I better prepare you for what the next four years would be like under his rule.”

My stomach dropped. I knew the election was going to be close and I had never gotten that many swats with the strap. It was a thick handled black strap, 3 inches wide and doubled over. And it hurt, a lot.

“And since you apparently think us Republicans are so wrong for trying to live in a safe country, with right for its people as the founders wanted, you’ll get a reminder of what happens when you choose the wrong side. Go get the dildo.”

It was in the top drawer, one room over. I walked slowly to retrieve it, my hands trying to conceal my embarrassment. 

“Don’t think I don’t see the hard on. Hurry up”.

I turned red as the blood rushed to my face. I found what she wanted and returned to the living room.

“Blue dildo. Appropriate as they are the ones that will be fucking you if you get your way. For every electoral vote Trump wins, you’ll get one 30 seconds of this in your ass. Seems either way, you’ll be learning quiet a bit tonight.

“Yes ma’am” was all I could muster.

She had me sit on the wooden kitchen chair that doubles as my punishment chair when it’s needed. She on the other hand, recliner on the leather couch, still fully dressed. She sipped her wine, saying nothing as we watched the commentary drone on.

The first two states had closed their polls and were called immediately - for Trump. Indiana ind Kentucky gave him 19 electoral votes.

“All right, that 19 times thirty seconds. Nine and a half minutes the dislocated is going in your ass. Put it on the punishment chair.”

I stood, and with the dildo in hand, pushed the suction cup against the wooden seat. It wobbled obscenely as I let go. 

“Come here”

She uncapped a bottle of lubricant she had in the side table and squirted a blob into my hand. I instinctively went to rub it on my penis.

“Ah ah. It’s not for your cock, it’s for that one, and your hole.”

I rubbed the lube onto the blue dildo, trying to be as liberal with it as I could. I blushed again as she gave me another blob, and I reached behind to spread my cheeks and rub it onto my bumhole.

“All right, sit down, all the way. I want your feet off the ground.” 

“Yes Ma’am.”

I felt the cold tip of the cock push into me as I sat, slowly lowering myself into it. It filled my quickly, and felt much larger than I knew it really was. Finally my ass felt the wooden seat and I let my weight press on the chair, lifting my feet off the ground and placing them on the sides of the legs. Impaled, I tried to relax, watching the commentary on the television. Any move I made felt amplified, as the dildo pressed hard on my prostate. It did nothing but make the issue of my hardened cock worse, pushing a drop of precum out of me. I tried to remain still, knowing there was a long night ahead. 

Nine and a half minutes later, the timer on her phone went off.

“All right, stand up. The next set will be in soon. Seeing what happens when you align yourself with losers Michael?”

“Yes ma’am.” I said, lifting myself off the clock. 

“Hands on your head, you can stand just like that until the next set comes in.”

My hands went to my head, removing any chance to hide the precum dripping off my cock. 

The second set of polls was closing soon, and I grew nervous. The east coast often went Dem, especially the north, and I knew what was coming. She had gotten up to get another glass of wine, and returning to the room, handed me the strap. 

“Here, we will need this soon.”

It felt heavy. The impending doom had the blood leaving my increasingly flaccid penis.Ten minutes later, the first results were in, 62 votes for the Democrats, and 29 more for the Republicans.

“Well take care of the swats first. Lean over the back of the couch, all the way, feet of the ground.”

I walked behind it, leaning my hips over the edge and letting my shoulders fall to the seat. It pushed my hips high in the air, and my feet came off the ground, making me feel like a child hoisted over his mother’s knee. Walking behind me, strap in hand, Jen took her position.

“62 votes for your elderly, senile friend Michael. Hope they were worth it.”

She wasted no time, the strap landing hard on my bare ass. There’s is a definite sting with it, and it’s not immediately overwhelming like a paddle, but the pain builds quickly. 




She didn’t take a break, just strike after strike. I started to squirm, kicking my feet, grunting a bit as the swats continued.

I’d lost count very quickly and it felt like the strapping would go on forever. My ass was on fire, and I knew Jen was putting her arm into the swats. Thankfully they finally ended. My eyes were full of water and I was breathing heavily.

“62. And this is just a taste of what is in store if the Democrats get their way. Stand up.”

I pushed myself off the couch, standing up, still trying to catch my breath.

“All right, back on your chair, you owe me fourteen and a half minutes on that cock....”

I was in for a very long night indeed.

Wednesday, November 4, 2020

Failure and starting over

I failed. I did not keep my promises to myself or Miss Julie. Real men keep their promises and stand by what they say they will do. Ones that don’t, get put in panties and have a dildo put deep in their ass...

In early August, I started back to work after the Covid shut down in my area, and it caused quiet a life change. I was getting used to my routine of having plenty of time to plan my days, cook for myself and my family, grocery shop when I wanted. I knew the change was coming and felt that I was prepared to simply continue in the same course without any issues. As a restaurant manager, hours can be long, days turn into nights, and time to cook and eat properly can be difficult without a plan in place. This was my downfall.
I’d made great strides in not only my life style and weight loss, but also learning to change my mind about how a submissive husband should behave. I’d had my ass beaten a few times that I needed to, and tasted my own cum for the first time. After all, as Julie pointed out, why should I desire my wife do something I wasn’t willing to do myself? My failure started with less frequent check ins to Miss Julie, after nearly three months of daily morning emails with confirmations of my weight and keto stick results. Every morning, first thing, I stripped nude and knelt in front of the toilet, envisioning Miss Julie watching as I took my test to prove I had followed our plan. Getting back into work, I wanted to sleep in later, and I missed a day. Then a few days. 

My diet was going great, and then I had a day that I opened, and was going to get home just after dinner. Someone called off, then it was busy, and my early night turned to 10pm, and I was starving. That chicken sandwich that had been rang incorrectly was in the window, and I took it. 

Once I’d fallen off the wagon I was ashamed of myself. I was scared to admit my actions, not just because of the severe punishment I was sure it would incur, but because I had let myself down. I ran and hid. Stopped communicating and even stopped commenting on Miss Julies posts, scared she would see me and know I was avoiding her.

I just began to accept my failure, deciding I wasn’t strong enough, and this was my life. I was sad, slightly depressed, and didn’t feel I had any energy.

The seed Miss Julie had planted was still there though. We took my daughter to the local playground early in October and I was chasing her around, helping her climb and explore. I felt the exhaustion coming quickly, the feeling that had started to go away when I was exercising daily. And I knew. I have to do this. 

I failed, but that doesn’t mean I have to be done. I can get up, dust myself off, and get back on my plan. 

I’ve always felt that atonement works for me mentally, helping me move past my previous issues and move forward. That said, I needed to contact Miss Julie and thank her for helping me, and own up to my own failure to be accountable. I spent nearly two hours, writing and rewriting a message to apologize, let her know how ashamed I am, and thank her for the knowledge and guidance she provided to me. Starting this kind of journey is hard enough, and she gave me a plan that I proved to myself was sustainable, if I had the willpower to see it through. Of course I still and always will crave the guidance of someone with her knowledge and gravitas, but I honestly didn’t expect a reply. I’d let her down and she already had helped me so much, with out anything in return.

A few days went by, and Julie replied, with a command.

I was to make a post, describing my humiliation and failure as a man. I was to do so with panties on, and a dildo in my ass. 

So here I sit, impaled and full of rubber cock. Purple flowered panties on...

I don’t know if this is all Miss Julie will require in penance, but it is a good start.

And I’m my diet, I will start again. No more than 50 net carbs per day, and at least 2000 calories. Tracking my food every day. Peeing on my ketostick in the morning and weighing myself. I need consequences. Failing again is not an option. Real men live up to their word. It’s panties and a filled ass until I prove I can!

Saturday, July 11, 2020

Licking Julie's Ass!

Hello everyone! As a quick catch up, I had a weigh in recently, and Julie sent me the following;

Wow. Really kicking in nicely now! I think we have you dialed in properly. As a celebration/reward, lie on your back naked, make a tight fist with one hand, Shove your tongue into your fist 🤜 pretending it's my asshole sitting on you and jerk off. I want that tongue around and around, up and down, back and forth, and in and out. Make me cum, darling, just from your tongue in my ass. 


I completed Julie's task, and the following is the fantasy that was in my head as I did. 

Reminder - it is a work of fantasy.

The flight to Canada was a smooth one, and a year after starting my personal journey of weight loss, I felt much more comfortable in the economy seat my company had purchased. There wasn’t anything I could do though, to settle the butterflies in my stomach. 

It was two weeks ago that I learned my company was considering putting a new office in Toronto, and that I would be sent to inspect the building we were thinking about leasing. The news sent my mind immediately spinning, knowing I’d be in the same area of the world as the person who had helped lead me in changing my life. She’d mentioned in passing a few times that I was to tell her if I would be in her country.

Now, I messaged her that my flight had landed.

I wheeled my carry on down the ramp to the shuttles taking travelers to the area hotels, trying to stay under as many awnings I could to dodge the falling rain. It didn’t work very well, and I felt the dampness as I climbed into the back of the black town car. I gave the driver the address if the hotel and got out my phone to go over Julie’s final email to me. 


You will go to your hotel directly from the airport. Once there, you will check in, leaving an extra key at the desk under my name. Go to your room, and shower. Once clean, dry off, and fold the towel neatly on the counter. You are to remain nude.

Go back into the room and retrieve a sleep mask, and handcuffs. Leave the key to the cuffs on the bed. Move to the corner that will be most visible from the door. Kneel.

Place the sleep mask over your eyes, and then the handcuffs on your wrists, with your hands behind your back. Your nose will be touching the corner of the both walls until given further instruction.

Not completing any detail of this message will be punished severely.

Mistress Julie

I finished reading as the cab pulled up to the hotel drop off area, and I gathered my things. The hotel was nice; the high ceilings echoed the sounds of the people in the lobby walking on the marble floors. I got my room key, making sure to let the attendant know that another needed to be made and kept at the desk. I took a pen and wrote “Julie” on the white front of the envelope. 

The elevator hummed, taking me to the eighth floor and room 882. Swiping the card on the door, the lock clicked as I pushed it open. A nice room, king size bed, and an open view looking out over the city. Even in the rain, it was a sight.

I quickly went about Julie’s instructions, getting the handcuffs and sleep mask out of my bag and laying them on the end of the bed. I put the rest of my bag aside and went to the shower to prepare.

I had no idea what, if anything, Mistress Julie had prepared. It could very well be I’d be spending the rest of the evening in the corner, and that would be that. I also knew better than to procrastinate. 
Washing quickly to get the stink of travel off myself, I stepped out of the shower and quickly dried off. It was the first time I noticed I was already getting hard imagining that Mistress Julie might come into the same room. Folding the towel as instructed, I walked back into the room, fully nude.

Picking up the handcuffs and mask, I went to the corner directly facing the door as you walk into the room. I hadn’t fully understood the reasoning behind choosing the specific corner. That is until I stood in it and quickly realized why. Should anyone happen to enter this room, the very first thing they would be greeted with would be my bare ass, bent over with my nose in the corner. God forbid a maid or housekeeper come in. 

Sliding a leather bottomed chair from the corner, I knelt down, spreading my knees apart on the carpet. Thankfully the padding was soft and giving, I didn’t know how long I’d be here. With a deep breath, I placed the mask over my eyes, turning everything black. I clicked one handcuff around my wrist, and then moving my hands behind my back, used my hip to help click the other side closed. I bent to touch my nose, having to shuffle my knees back several times to be able to push it forward enough to be properly touching both walls. Bending to touch my nose forced me to push my ass out, my cock, balls, and asshole now on display to whomever walked in as well. 

I waited for what seemed like forever, shifting my knees back and forth in the carpet to relieve the pain in them. My sense of hearing was on overdrive, and I tensed a few times, hearing footsteps outside my door, and even a rolling cart once. I prayed the maid didn’t enter, but I was resolved to keep my nose in that corner and not move. 

Another pair of footsteps moved outside the door, and I heard them stop directly in front of it. My god, Is it her? Is this real? My breathing stopped, as I heard a card inserted into the door, and the high pitched clicking as the lock turned over. And then the brush of the door bottom along the carpet as it opened...

And then nothing.

The door hadn’t been closed. I was kneeling like this, and someone was standing in the room, the door still wide open. Short shallow breathes were all I could take, as my nose was still pressed into the corner, asshole spread and genitals hanging down. It was difficult to not get lightheaded.

Eventually the door brushed the carpet again and click closed. I heard the sound of light footsteps, closer and closer until right behind me. 

“Please let it be Julie.” I thought, “not some hotel worker, or stranger”. I swear I heard a short smirk, the sound you make when hearing a joke that really isn’t that funny.

I heard a bag of some sort placed on the table behind me, and then the rustling of clothes. Thick heavy cloth, an overcoat being removed and placed on the chair that once occupied my corner. I heard the bag again, things being found inside of it, removed and placed in the table, but what I couldn’t tell.

“Stand up.”

It was said softly but I was so intent on hearing that it startled me. A woman’s voice. Soft but said with a tone I’d sensed before. It made me realize I had never actually heard her voice. All the emails and all this time, the voice had been in my head. But now it was directly behind me.

I struggled to stand with any grace, the time waiting had taken its toll on my knees. I felt a tug on the chain between the handcuffs, and I stepped back, following the pull. I was led back several steps and turned around. It was disorienting, especially having been in the dark for some time.

“Bend over and spread”.

Again, the sweet voice I longed to hear, but in a tone that I didn’t dare argue with. I bent at the waist and grabbed a buttock with each hand. Pulling myself apart, I felt incredibly exposed. She could be inspecting every inch of me, or ignoring me completely, I had no way to know.

With some movement behind me again, I couldn’t tell what she was doing. I heard a few recognizable sounds as she moved about the room. Thuds here and there. What sounded like a latex rubber of a balloon? More items moved from the bag. A plastic cap clicking open, and the sound of some liquid...

My senses were shocked as I felt a very cold, very large object pressed directly onto my spread asshole. 

“Do not move.”

What I imagined to be a very large plug continued to push itself into me, not moving back and forth, just forward. Slowly but surely as I struggled to relax and let it in. Another rush of sensation as it finally passed the widest part, popping into place as I gasped. I tried to catch my breath as I heard a latex glove pulled from her hand.

“Stand up.”

I could feel a hand grasping the chain between the cuffs again, pulling me backwards. The backs of my thighs eventually brushed against what I realized was the comforter of the bed.

“Sit and lie down, on your back.”

I lowered myself, trying to keep pressure off the plug in my ass as I sat down.

“Scoot, all the way up in the bed.”

My feet left the floor as I wiggled myself up to the middle of the bed. It must have been an obscene sight. The plug was already pushing itself inside me as I moved, and my cock was pointing at the ceiling, hard from the anticipation pulsing through me.

I waited there as I heard her moving around the room, placing something near my head. More rustling of cloth much lighter this time. A snap, and the unmistakable sound of a belt buckle. And then skin touching skin.

My senses still on overdrive, and my cock achingly hard and pointing directly at the ceiling, I felt her weight moving into the bed. I shifted slightly as she moved across it, still not giving me that I longed for most; any part of her skin touching mine.

“Your hands will remain locked behind you. You will not cum without permission. Tongue out, now slut.”

“Yes Mistr...” 


The crop she was holding struck just above my cleanly shaven pubis.

“No talking, do as you’re told”.

I pushed my tongue out, hoping above hope that she would be rewarding me with a taste of her sweet pussy. Lord knows I had masturbated thinking constantly about it for the last year. 

I felt the bed move again, and my head drop back as she positioned herself on either side of it.

I shuddered as I finally I felt her bare thighs touch my shoulders. I’m sure she noticed my involuntary thrusting my hipes into the air, and possibly the precum I knew was forming at the end of my cock.

“You can stop when I tell you, and no cumming without permission.”

The unmistakable feeling of the end of her crop on the head of my penis told me she was not to be trifled with. And with that, I felt her weight press down directly on my face. She was warm and pushed into me hard, but was lower than I expected, closer to my chin. That’s when I realized exactly what was happening. 

My tongue was pushed directly against her asshole.

I moved my tongue around, trying to alternate between keeping it flat and soft and hardening it and pushing it out, trying to push it into her tight hole. It was more difficult than I imagined, as I felt it constricting, her toned buttocks tensing each time I pushed it out. I breathed as well as I could, but she pushed against my face and her ass enveloped me.

I soon felt her starting to move her hips back and forth, rubbering herself on my face. Her toned thighs and calves trapped my head in place, covering my ears. With the blindfold on and unable to hear, my sense of touch went wild. It also made me startle when I suddenly felt the strong vibration of a Hitachi magic wand against the bottom of my chin.

The vibration went through my jaw and I’m sure into my tongue, which was now formed into the small phallus inserted her asshole. She held it against her pussy, keeping her hips more still than before and I struggled to breath. I was only getting an occasional respite when she’d move just far enough forward for me to take a quick breath. The vibration continued as I felt her juices starting to drip down my chin and neck; the juices I longed to taste.  

It was difficult not to buck my hips, trying to get any contact for my cock. I fucked the air, surely a ridiculous sight, but my lust overrode my embarrassment. The plug still invaded my own asshole, rubbing my prostate and milking precum from my cock. 

Soon she pressed very hard, one of her hands on my chest, her hips pushing my tongue as far into her ass as it would go. Even with her covering my ears, and the vibration shaking my brain, I could hear her moans. Her hips bucked as she came, more of her wetness dripping down to my neck. She stayed still for some while, and I kept my tongue moving, making sure I would please her in any way I could, for as long as she required. She lifted herself slightly and I thought she may be finished. Taking a deep breath, I tried to recalibrate myself as the oxygen slowed the spinning in my head.

She suddenly pushed herself back down, my tongue sliding back into her asshole. It wasn’t that move that shocked me, as much as the Hitachi now pressed against the head of my cock.

My penis jumped and twitched, the wetness from her cum and mine, making it quite slippery. Soon the vibrator trapped my cock against my stomach, and I involuntarily let out a loud moan, muffled by Julie’s ass over my face, my tongue still deep inside of it. 

She had forbidden me from orgasm, a task I quickly found to be impossible. I tried to squirm away from the vibrator, but her crop cracking off the sides of my thighs told me unequivocally I wasn’t supposed to be moving. 

My cries went unheeded and I felt the beginnings of my orgasm. Her hips hadn’t moved, and everything spun as I desperately tried to breath and to keep myself from cumming.

My tongue still deep in her ass, I fell over the edge, squirting cum into my stomach as the vibrator milked what felt like every drop from my balls. The dread of breaking her command mixed with the pleasure of my orgasm, were both topped off by the dizziness from my lack of oxygen.  The vibration that had made me cum was still pulsing through the head of my cock, and very quickly went from slightly uncomfortable to excruciatingly intense. Her ass lifted from my face and I gasped deeply as I simultaneously tried to get away from the vibrator which was punishing my overly sensitive glans. She held the vibrator in place, a feeling of post orgasm torture I had never felt before. My brain tried unsuccessfully to compute all the feelings it was being given at once.

All of them translated to only one feeling. 


I had barely notice that Julie had gotten off the bed, only feeling her hand swiping the cum I had squirted on myself. It was wiped on my tongue, still pushed out of my mouth. Two, three swipes made sure every drop went into my mouth. 

“Swallow, naughty boy.” She said, one last stroke of her crop snapping on the shaft of my cock. I did so quickly and thankfully. 

I lay there as I heard her cloths going back on and I fought the urge to somehow pull the blindfold off to get a glimpse of her beauty. The felt a tug at the handcuffs and rolled to the side as she unlocked my hands. 

“Clean this room up, it’s unorganized. Leave the plug in until you do. We will talk about your punishment for disobeying me after your meeting tomorrow.”

And with that, I heard the door open and close again behind her.

Friday, July 3, 2020

Recycling for Julie

At the end of my last post describing the circumstances behind my punishment to complete my daily exercise with a large buttplug in my ass, I made mention that I had the urge to masturbate, but that I didn’t feel Julie would approve, considering it was supposed to be a punishment after all. I find myself with the general desire to drop my pants and jack off, basically any time I see a message alert with Miss Julie’s name on it. Of course, I was rather stupid to have tried to do Julie’s thinking for her, and she quickly responded with the following:

Oh michael, I didn't know your feelings about wanting to cum. Of course you may cum. In fact, I insist on it. Right into your hand, and then from your hand into your mouth. Really savour it swishing around in there. Do a little gargle with it inside. Then swallow it all down the hatch, naughty boy.


That’s what I get for admitting my naughty desires!

I read the comment right before lying down for the evening and had the night to sleep.
Originally, I was worried she would be upset with me for my admitting my desire to masturbate. After her response, there was still some trepidation as such, wondering if her comment was in jest, or if she meant it. The next morning when I awoke, I sent a reply to Miss Julie to try to explain myself.

Miss, perhaps I should take some time to explain my thoughts from the post.

There are few times that we interact that I don’t desire to drop to my knees and masturbate. The sense of control is still quite intense to me. I also don’t want to be disrespectful or inappropriate constantly talking about it if it makes you uncomfortable.

As you know embarrassment is a kink of mine and this desire is often a direct result of such. I have found that I have embarrassment in both the pain AND the pleasure that our interaction causes me. This is why I greatly appreciate you don’t adhere to the typical “automatic chastity” edict many Female dominants might impose. That said I admit that I usually masturbate daily to our interaction, your blog, or some other version of female dominant or spanking pornography.

You mentioned recycling my cum in your reply, and while not a hard limit for me, it is something I have not experienced and know I will have a struggle doing. I respect you and have committed to doing as you order, but also want to express what a large leap this would be for me. It would help me considerably if this is a road you wish I travel to be able to go down it slowly.


Going into this what felt like VERY suddenly, I was filled with trepidation. I had never even tasted my own cum, much less swallowed and entire orgasms worth. I hoped that my words would somehow convince Julie to allow me to try a drop or two, or put it in a drink or something that I could slowly ease into the process. While I know that this is a quite common theme in most FLR’s, I had never really considered doing so by myself much less actually ever tried it. There are many mental blocks to the act, but I also recognize that they are just that, mental. The same people that don’t like the taste of cilantro or can’t get over the texture of bananas. It’s a bodily fluid that I know won’t hurt me. Julie soon replied.

I enjoy the thought of you jerking off, michael. I am not into extended chastity.

In terms of consuming your own ejaculate, that is a bit of a rule for me. Having to do that immediately after ejaculation, when your sex drive is at its lowest, pleases me. A bit of a penance after your pleasure. I am not insisting you do that every time. However I saw you write that in your blog and I decided to have you do it on a whim. Partly to embarrass you on your own blog, of course. I expect a nice post on it once completed. Maybe take a photo of your splooge in your hand just before it goes down the hatch, and a nice detailed description of the tastes, textures, and feelings.

Remember, many women are required to do this on a very regular basis. What makes you so special that you can't do it? Imagine if a woman of yours refused you the simple pleasure of consuming your ejaculate. Would you not be justifiably critical and resentful of her? The first thing my husband made me do once he gained spanking rights over me is exactly that, despite the fact I do not enjoy it in the least, and previously enjoyed spitting rights. No more. Why should you be allowed to escape something many women do for the sake of their partner's pleasure? Are you in some way better than a woman? Better than I? I think not! You WILL swallow your cum this time, every last drop, like a woman would.


I read her response several times. Well, it does seem like Julie to get over this whining and baby steps thing and simply throw me in the deep end! She made a few points that couldn’t be argued, and one specifically that really help me get over my aversion to swallowing my own cum. It’s a rule she has and it pleases her.

I had stupidly not been considering something since we started my training last month. Really every email, blog post, interaction we’ve had has been describing what I need, what I want, and what I deserve. What kind of terrible example of a submissive male have I been that it took me this long to realize, I had never considered to ask what I could do to please HER.

That would have really been all the explanation I needed to do as she commanded, but the second paragraph made several other points. As I do have switch tendencies, I know the feelings she described, and hadn’t considered a few of the implications she brought up. It wasn’t the thoughts of resent necessarily, as I don’t feel that I had experienced them before, but I did understand her points about doing something for the sake of your partners pleasure. Would I prefer if that any time I got a blowjob, that she enthusiastically swallowed every drop I shot into her throat? Of course! And I can’t argue that it would then be hypocritical of me to even have the desire, but then refuse to do the same. I don’t get to say with any sense of honor that I don’t believe in misogynistic principals, while wanting my partner to do something I wouldn’t.

Good boy, get it all out...

I collected my thoughts and sent the following:

Yes Ma’am, I understand you point, and that why I don’t have it as a hard limit, just something I haven’t wanted to do. Of course I also understand that’s the idea.

It helps me incredibly to know that the act pleases you. The idea that it’s simply a rule I am expected to follow does as well. Most of our discussions have been about my needs, what works for me and why, rather than being focused on your needs and desires. This goes against what the ideals of any FLR as the point it for you to lead, and me to follow, focusing on your pleasure more than my own
My thoughts have been in no way that I am better than a woman. The misogyny of the thought process repulses me. You have a point as I suppose on some level, I do deal with the societal pressure that such an act is “unmanly”. In the same way, I’ve thought about our discussion about being told to wear panties. The main feeling I would get from the act is of submission to you and the pleasure you receive from it. In the end, it works for me to understand that Mistress gets what Mistress wants. I may not personally enjoy the process, but that’s not the point.

I’ll fulfill your rule and post on it this evening. I appreciate your thoughts and guidance on the matter, and feel better that you are comfortable and even encouraging about my masturbation. I have yet to masturbate today, and already fed the strange feeling of reluctance to cum as I know what’s coming afterwards.


The rest of the night, I had what was going to happen on my mind. I would be tasting my cum for the first time. I would be licking a full load off my hand and swallowing every drop.

Eventually, everyone had fallen asleep and I went to the office to complete my task. It was almost a surreal thing, a weird sense of dread mixed with excitement. I found some generic spanking porn, pulled down my shorts, and began stroking my cock.

The video ended, and I found I didn’t search for another, but let my mind wander. Imagining my own scenario, I felt the arousal swell in me. I knelt in front of Julie, who simply sat in her chair, fully dressed, waiting impatiently for me to complete my task. I have a “supervised masturbation” fetish, and the idea of someone as strict as her monitoring such an intimate thing is a dream. I didn’t need to be specific in why I was there on my knees, or what she was even saying, Just imagining her eyes on me was enough embarrassment to make me feel the first spasms of orgasm coming close.

Hurry up, masturbator...

I still knew what was going to happen though. I reread her email one last time to bolster my determination, and stood where I had positioned my phone to catch the act. I would complete her task, and in turn, she would in reality be observing both the manifestation of my desire as well as my humiliation of eating my own cum. I had prepared a sign, properly thanking her, while reminding myself what I had to do. I got in position, and stroked until eventually the pleasure overtook my desire to avoid my required task. I came, holding my hand under the end of my cock, attempting to collect as much of the cum as I could.

I had read that afternoon, the longer you wait, the harder the task will become. Better to just set your mind to it and go right away. So I did. A large lick on my hand had my mouth instantly full of warm, salty cum.

It was warmer than I expected for some reason. I always imagined it as cold and globby, but it was body temperature (obviously), and runner than I thought. It is salty indeed. A little slimy, the consistency of an uncooked egg white, or raw oysters is the closest I can describe. It was the saltiness that made swallowing a bit difficult for me. A small glass of water would have been a good idea. Two more licks of my palm had most of the cum cleaned off my hand.

What I noticed afterwards was how submissive I felt, and how much I desired interaction with Miss Julie (Or Mistress Julie really as well). The experience was at the same time not nearly as bad as I expected, while somehow being exactly what I thought it would be. The rush of hormones was equally from completing the act, documenting it, and knowing that I would be instructed to share it here, to increase my embarrassment from both readers seeing it or more so from commenting. That said, here is the video I sent to Miss Julie of the task.  

Monday, June 29, 2020

Plugged, But Honest

My morning routine has been pretty regular, and I’ve been trying my best to make sure that I follow it each day. I get up, go to the restroom, and kneel in front of the toilet, pointing the usual morning erection down as I pee on my ketostick. It takes 40 seconds for it to read properly, so I take the time to weigh myself, then take pictures of both to send to Miss Julie. Recently though, she has added 15 minutes of High intensity Interval Training (HIIT) to my day. It only takes fifteen minutes to complete but is intense and leaves me feeling “the burn” for a while. I’ve been pretty good about completing it so far each day. I knew from the beginning that as hard as it is to stick to my diet sometimes, I would struggle much more with exercising regularly.

This week has been busy as I will be headed back to work soon from the Covid craziness. One of the tasks I’ve been wanting to do is a good bit of yardwork and gardening at the house. Waking up Wednesday morning, I took my pictures, and went straight to work. Mowing the lawn, pulling a garden worth of weeds, mulching, and installing a garden border, all to be done before the weekend. It was hard work, and after about 4 hours I went inside for the day. I had accomplished some things but needed Thursday as well to finish everything I wanted to do.

The point of all of this is that both days, I was tired and feeling sore. It was while getting ready for bed on Wednesday that I realized I had not done my HIIT training for the day. The soreness in my shoulders and legs made it very easy for me to rationalize that I had surely done my physical activity for the day, which should suffice. I awoke Thursday, and did much the same thing, working outside for several hours and coming in exhausted. Again though, I went to bed knowing that I had not really completed the exact task that Miss Julie had given me to continue on my journey to health.

Waking up Friday, took my weigh in pictures, and went downstairs to complete my HIIT bike time.
Afterwards, breathing heavily, I went to compose my daily email.

I knew that I needed to be honest with Miss Julie about the last two days, and even though I really did feel as if the exercise I had done was intense, I was hiding that I hadn’t followed her command. I had a pretty good idea she wouldn’t let it fly, but I had made the commitment to be honest with her completely.

I sent her the following;

Mistress Julie, I’ve weighed in this morning at 285.2, a new low! I’m certainly happy about that. 

I do feel I need to admit that I did not complete my exercise on Wednesday or Thursday this week. I can make excuses but won’t. I’m sorry and I have exercised this morning though and will try to continue doing so.


It's funny that I've now noticed I change both how I address Julie as well as how I spell my own name in my messages to her depending on my feelings of submission at the time. Mistress Julie is for those times I feel most submissive or know I'm in trouble. Almost in "session" I suppose. The same for when I am "michael" rather than uppercase or just Mike. It was completely unintentional at first, something I didn't notice until after the Accountability Chair punishment. 

I was anxious for a bit that afternoon waiting for her response. I know she’s busy but it always makes me a bit apprehensive to be waiting for her when I know I might be in a bit of trouble. I didn’t take her long to respond this time.

What???? no no no no no - that exercise is EVERYDAY. Please start logging your exercise into the app as well from now on. I will want to be keeping an eye on that. And as punishment, you're doing your next exercise with the dildo up your butt. The entire thing and you better not shirk!


After following up with her on a minor change, I would be wearing the largest buttplug I have while completing my next HIIT training. I had only had the plug in one other time – when she ordered it covered in Icy Hot and placed in my ass. It’s large. Not painfully so, but I know its in when is there.

Saturday morning came and I headed downstairs to complete my task. Gym shorts and tshirt on, I brought the plug and lube. Pulling my shorts down in the back, I rubbed some lube on the plug, and bent over to spread my cheeks and push it into my hole. It felt cold, and big. It just kept sliding further and further in until it finally reached the base and stopped itself from invading me further.

Pulling my shorts up over my butt, I took a few steps, trying to see how it would feel moving with the plug inside me. It was far enough in me that you could see anything with the shorts on, but I felt it stretching me with each step. I went to my exercise bike and opened the stopwatch and timer recording on my phone.

8 seconds of cycling as hard as I can, and 12 seconds of recovery, over and over, for 15 minutes. That’s ts. It’s quite intense normally, as my cardio isn’t very well developed yet, and I get winded about 3-4 minutes in. Today though, my breathing was much less of my focus. I found I must sit far enough forward on the seat and lean back far enough to pedal that my weight isn’t pushing the plug into me that way it did during my punishment on the Accountability Chair. Each time I push the pedals though, the plug shifts slightly, rubbing my insides. 

The plug wasn’t the same feeling as riding the dildo. They are angled a bit differently, and the dildo a bit longer. In the Accountability Chair I had a sense of arousal, and naturally leaked precum as the dildo rubbed against my prostate. During my exercise I felt the plug inside me, but it was more just stretching my ass as my legs worked. Arousing certainly, but more from the submission of knowing it was there and why.

Eventually the timer hit 15 minutes and I stood up. As I had promised Mistress Julie, I took a picture of the plug in its place, typed my message to her before removing it. There wasn’t the same precum leakage, but that didn’t stop me from being quiet hard feeling Julie’s control. I resisted the urge to kneel on the floor and masturbate; I didn’t think Mistress Julie would care for that kind of behavior during what is supposed to be a punishment. Rewards are only for good boys!

My next post will be up tomorrow and is a continuation of my fantasy FLR storyline.

Friday, June 19, 2020

The Accountability Chair

The Accountability Chair

It’s about time for an update of the real world! Things have been on track with my keto diet, and Julie has been keeping me on track just fine. Overall, I’m down 16 total pounds since starting! Much of the loss was in the first week, but it is nice to see slow but steady results since then. We had thought I was plateauing for a bit, but hopefully we are past that.

Julie has also had me start with some High intensity interval training (HIIT) that has helped my metabolism. It’s a process that only takes fifteen minutes a day, and just has me doing short bursts of going all out (8 seconds pushing, 12 seconds resting). The stationary bike I found on Facebook marketplace was literally $20, so there’s no excuse if you are considering getting one!

Now, for the part that all you pervs are looking for. 

As I said, I’ve been doing well on my diet and working out, but steadily I have felt my drive go down a little bit each day. It not my commitment level that is waning, just my ability to push myself the way I should when working out or keeping in the right positive mindset that Julie wants. A big part of this comes from my need to feel submissive and controlled. This mixture of control and accountability is why I reached out to Strict Julie in the first place. I know that just regular old “tell my friends I’m working out; they will keep me on track” just doesn’t work for me. I knew I needed someone that would punish me when I erred, as well as understand my need for certain things or “rewards” when I am doing well to keep me on track. 

I’d never considered maintenance punishments to be of much use until I started this process. I have always been so mentally stuck in the idea that if I was going to be punished, it should be for an offense that I committed. I wrote a previous post about this feeling, and my first decision to actually request a punishment. That time she quickly put me in my place by having me coat me penis and testicles in Icy hot, and then insert the largest butt plug I have also coated in icy hot. It’s definitely not a punishment I wish to endure again. However, that time I was also stuck in a mindset that I needed an actual punishment for the choices I had made in the past with eating and my health. It was meant to be a true punishment, and something that I want to avoid. And it worked.

This time though, I wrote Julie, requesting a different sort of thing. 

Good morning Ma’am. I’ve weighed in at 286.4. Still staying positive and getting my exercise in. I did find that I’ll be back in to work around the 1st if the month, which will change my routine, but my plan currently is to take my food to work and forego the temptation to eat there.

I also worked more on my next story post but will probably need to split it into two or three posts as it’s becoming quiet long in size. I very much like the idea of adding in a kinky trainer but want to lay the groundwork for it to make sense in the story.

I hope you’re well, and as always, thank you for your oversight and keeping me accountable. I still hope to discuss some sort of maintenance punishment or reward system when you are able, as I think it will help my continued motivation. I’ve found it hard to stay focused and positive as the days go on, especially when I felt I had plateaued some, and honestly just crave some of the submissive feeling that helps keep me focused and compliant.

I don’t mean to pester, and if you feel it’s unwarranted, I won’t bring it up again. Please have a wonderful day Ma’am.


Any time I make such a request, it’s usually after a few days of thought about it, as It’s already been made very clear Julie can give very harsh punishments. I know that I need to keep my mind in the right place though, and this includes knowing that she is the boss, and I need to do what she tells me, even when I know it will be very uncomfortable.

I waited through the afternoon with a tension in my stomach waiting for her reply, and it came later in the evening.

Ok then, as a reward for how well you have done on your weight loss... get your biggest dildo/plug up your bottom, then sit somewhere where your legs dangle, keep your hands in your head for 5 full minutes, naked and squirming. I want ONE thought in your head while you're sitting there: "Thank you for fucking my ass so deeply, Mistress Julie". Rock back and forth as you think that. Write to me after you are done.


I had sent Julie an email in the past and she knew that I had a dildo available to properly fulfill her command. I searched for an acceptable chair in the house that would work, but we don’t have a stool or something high enough to have my feet hang off. After checking in with her, I created and got approval to use what I will call my “accountability chair.”

The dildo is a 6” cock, with realistic balls attached. It doesn’t seem like its that big, taking it out of the package, but once it starts to go in it feels much bigger than that. Julie made sure to remind me that even on the chair, I was to sit backwards and have my feet up so that all my weight was directly applied to impaling me on the cock. 

I eventually had everything set up and straddled the chair. Lowering myself onto the cock, I tried to relax and slowly let it go deeper and deeper into me. I thankfully soon felt the wood of the chair on my ass cheeks, and the balls of the dildo touching the top of my crack. I slowly lifted my feet behind me and started the five-minute timer to ensure I completed the task I was given. 

I began to rock back and forth and focused on the one thought Julie told me I should have for the duration. “Thank you for fucking my ass so deeply Mistress Julie.” I hadn’t called her Mistress before, and it was a small but interesting change in my head. I very much imagined her sitting in the chair behind me, watching and making sure that I was following her commands exactly as she gave them. I fucked myself on the dildo, feeling it move inside of me slightly, as it wasn’t going in and out as much as pushing itself around. I noticed very quickly the effects it had on me. 

I repeated the mantra she had given me in my head and it made my cock hard. I’m not 19 anymore, and it usually takes some manual stimulation to get myself hard, but my hands were holding the back of the chair as I felt myself get erect. There was a small thud each time my thickening penis tapped the wood of the seat in front of me. The other thing that was quickly apparent was the dildo was clearly rubbing my prostate, as a glancing down I saw a clear string of precum stretching from the head of my penis to a small wet mark on the chair. In only a few minutes, the blue dildo had pushed several drops of cum out of my own cock. I was turned on, but I felt a much stronger desire to submit than fully orgasm. While it was in some way pleasurable, the cum wasn’t spurting but was simply cum leaking out of me as I rode the dildo. 

It was exactly what I needed. It wasn’t overly painful or punishing but was embarrassing and exposing. It turned me on but wasn’t just masturbating. It made me feel small and controlled. It made me feel submissive and taken. I felt her there, telling me to keep going, to ride faster, making fun of the little puddle I was making riding her cock.

The timer went off, and I decided that I should properly thank Mistress Julie for giving me what I needed. I wrote her a message and lowered myself back on the dildo to take the following. I really do mean it. 

Thank you for fucking my ass so deeply Mistress Julie. I will sleep tonight still feeling your cock deep inside of me. 

No, No. All the way down, boy.

There you go that's better, slut.