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.


  1. Ha ha! You'd be exactly describing election night in my household if my husband voted for Liberal Justin Turdeau!

    1. I had assumed you’d feel that way haha! Those liberals just infecting everything these days. I’m sure The threat of the paddle will keep David in line, although the idea of his bun being used might not...

  2. My wife will not tolerate me getting worked up over politics, she could care less about who I vote for, but will not let me rant and rave, especially in front of our friends, and worse of all my mother-in-law. I will be taken to the bedroom, no matter who might be visiting, told to undress, will be soundly spanked, and then told to put on my jammies and taken back to the front room to face the wall. My mother-in-law was visiting during such a spanking, and was not satisfied with how red my bottom was, I was over her lap, jammies bottom pulled down and her hairbrush brought the proper redness. So in this household, just it civil or find yourself with a very red, sore, spanked bare bottom. Jack

  3. While remaining in the fantasy, and to shed light on your text with a slightly exciting and perv light, the extreme severity of your wife reminds me of this sentence from Himmler (Why Himmler ? Because this horrible man has talked too about « discipline »)
    "Education consists of discipline and not of any instruction on an ideological basis"
    Just as, in the extermination camps, Himmler explicitly forbade all propaganda, so your wife is not at all interested in re-educating you so that you can share republican ideology with her again on the basis of a common reflection.
    Discipline only, that is whipping and sodomy, seems to her certainly necessary and quite sufficient to rebuild your education which is crumbling.
    A very long night indeed...

  4. My conservative girlfriend, and her mother really enjoy giving me a bad time for my liberal views. I had enough, visiting her mother, a great cook, I finally told my girlfriend I was going to give her a spanking when we got home, her mother said why wait and with her mother watching I gave my girlfriend a very sound bare bottom spanking. I always have her go to the corner and stand, what surprised me was her mother, don't you want to spank me also. At your age I said, she just smiled, and then went over my lap. Please stand up I said, she did, down with your pants, and she did as told. I applied several spanks with the hairbrush, then pulled her panties down, she did not like that at all. Well I really spanked her, more than her daughter, and she kicked off the panties. Get to the other corner young lady I said sternly, leave the panties on the floor. Both with nice red bottoms and her mother said, you spank really hard rubbing her bottom. No rubbing, or another spanking, she got another spanking. A week later she brought up the spanking, said her bottom hurt for several days, and I smiled, good.