Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Archive for the ‘erotica’ Category

Today’s fantasy comes from the article “Papal crackdown on bare-kneed tourists sparks hypocrisy claims” from The Register:

The Vatican’s stripey knickerbocker-clad Swiss Guards have launched a crack down on scantily-clad tourists in and around the Holy See.

Reports say that a long-standing modest dress decree has been extended from St Peter’s basicilica – the big church – to the whole of the Vatican mini-state.

The Pope’s halberd-waving steel-hatted private army has apparently been forcing quivering tourists into corners to berate them for having uncovered shoulders or knees. While some have been directed to nearby traders specialising in more modest apparel, others have been refused entry to Vatican City altogether, The Telegraph reports. [...]

The crackdown has angered some visitors, who said it was hypocritical for an organisation beset by child abuse allegations to suddenly get all hot and bothered about ladies’ shoulders and men’s hairy knees. Still, when it comes to driving Satan out of the Vatican you’ve got to start somewhere, so why not with spaghetti strap tops and Bermuda shorts?

It should be noted that the guards wear a 16th century outfit including a natty doublet and voluminous pantaloons, and while the pantaloons stop above the knee, the offending joints are covered by coordinated stockings. Their wardrobe also includes a knee-length doublet.

The pope himself generally wears a floor length cassock, which this week he has apparently been teaming with a baseball cap in pontifical white.

(The above lovely shot of the Vatican Guards is from Wikipedia.)

This of course has spawned some serious Swiss Guard fantasies for me — because how could you not want to be spanked by someone in that get-up?!

My fantasy runs like this … I get into Vatican City wearing a cardigan over my tube top, but it’s a hot day, and also, I like the idea of naughtily flashing a bit of skin where I shouldn’t.

So the cover-up gets stuffed in my bag, and I take in the sights showing off not only shoulder, but a few inches of stomach as well! (And, actually, since I actually usually wear low-riding trou, that could be quite a few inches of the middle of me uncovered!)

I’ve gotten my shots of famous statues and buildings, bought some postcards, and am ready to head back to the tour bus … when two Swiss Guards bear down on me, berating me in thickly accented English. There I am in a corner, away from the other tourists, trapped by the two overbearing guards….

Here’s where my fantasy breaks up a bit, because what shall they use on me?! Take off their leather belts? Use the scabbards of their swords? Or do Swiss Guards carry some esoteric, medieval tool of correction?! (And/or do they use their rough, sword-callused hands?)

Anyway, no matter what they use, we all know it ends with me walking stiffly to my tour bus, eyes red-rimmed, and sweater on and buttoned all the way up!

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While I’m a dedicated book-worm all year round, there is something special about “summer reading.” It’s the excuse, I suppose, for reading even less intellectual brain-candy than usual. (Although my reading pattern tends to be that I have something dense on-going and will go through several other fluffier reads while slogging through the hard stuff.)

There is no excuse for the following two books, save for that it’s summer and my brain has melted. Somehow, and I have no idea how this could have happened, they both turned out to be quite kinky!

They were both, “just found on the shelf at the library” books that wandered home with me. But I must admit that I could sorta tell from the cover that the first book was going to be dirty. And it’s funny to think of a prudish porn star, but I was actually shocked at what I was reading — I mean, I got it at the library! I thought that sort of stuff could only be found at “Adult” stores!

(This image from sexandsubmission.com is here because A.) it’s hot, B.) it’s got two men in it, which happens in the below book, and C.) that’s my friend Calico in between them. I happen to know she really quite enjoyed that shoot!)

Here’s a bit from the Claimed by the Wolf: A Shadow Guardians Novel (by Charlene Teglia) which I thought you lot would enjoy:

“I want you bent over that wall.” He indicated a ledge on the far side of the small room.

Sybil managed to get her feet under herself and stood. Then she made her way to the spot he’d chosen. The rock formed a natural shelf at a convenient height. If she stood with her legs shoulder length apart and bent forward from the waist, it would support her fairly comfortably.

“Like this?” She asked the question over her shoulder, and drew in her breath sharply when she realized he was right behind her.

“Exactly like that.”
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From: New Scientist!

Spanking is stressful at first, but it could bring consenting couples closer together. That’s the implication of two studies of hormonal changes associated with sadomasochistic (S&M) activities including spanking, bondage and flogging.

Brad Sagarin at Northern Illinois University in DeKalb and colleagues measured levels of the stress hormone cortisol in 13 men and women at an S&M party in Arizona, before, during and after participating in activities. During S&M scenes, cortisol rose significantly in those receiving stimulation, but dropped back to normal within 40 minutes if the scene went well. There was no change in those inflicting the activity.

At an S&M event in Colorado, testosterone was measured in 45 men and women. It increased significantly in receiving women only. Donatella Marazziti of the University of Pisa, Italy, says the boost may help women cope with the aggressive nature of S&M activities, or that it could be another sign of stress. In both studies, couples who said the party went well also reported increases in relationship closeness (Archives of Sexual Behavior, DOI: 10.1007/s10508-008-9374-5).

It’s important to note that levels of both hormones dropped back down in couples who enjoyed the experience, Marazziti says. “When sexual intercourse is consensual it is not stressful – even if it is extreme sex.”

Heh — for me, I don’t think my stress levels go up when the spanking starts at all — I’m just too happy about it! Of course, if it’s actual punishment, that’s another matter … but the study didn’t go into such detail!

Maybe we should do our own study! We in the spankosphere could start S.P.A.N.K. (the Society of Professional and Notable Kinksters, perhaps, although I’m sure one of you could come up with some better words to fill that acronym, this was just off the top of my head!) and do scientific studies of all sorts of aspects of spanking and CP. We could have the S.P.A.N.K. Institute (classically I think these things are supposed to be in Switzerland, but my vote is for either the UK or somewhere tropical!) and we could call upon the world’s finest scientists (if you go with my theory that all scientists are perverts, then this makes it easy to assume they’ll all want to join us!) and then have spankers and spankees coming in for trials and studies.

Can’t you see it … white hallways with white-lab-coated spankologists walking looking at clipboards (or, better yet, Star Trek PADDs!), passing rooms, where looking in the windows on the doors, you can see girls bent over various white furniture items (a bed, a desk, a chair, even white and sterile medieval torture pieces) with wires hooked up to their heads and bodies, with scientists standing around taking notes as the spanker lines up another hit … or the “psychology” labs which have perfect sets (schoolroom, headmaster’s office, reformatory dormitory) where spankees and spankers interact while scientists monitor from one-way mirrors … there can be a sleep lab for seeing if people sleep better after a spanking … and a gymnasium for exercise-based CP studies … and I picture two dining areas: one where the spankees can whisper to each other about what the tests are like, and what might be happening to them next, and a lounge for the spankers and scientists to chat over meals about new tests and ideas for improving results….

I think I may have to visit this fantasy with some regularity!

(There always has to be anal play in any medical scenario, don’t you think?!)

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Am sitting at the local café. School must have recently ended for the day, because it’s stuffed to overfilling with schoolgirls. (And schoolboys. But I’m afraid my point of view on teen and pre-teen boys is that they are mostly just zitty, unwashed little monsters which it’s best to ignore whenever possible. A perspective I wish I’d had when I was a teenage girl!)

It makes me think of Abel and Haron, and their ability to turn any situation into a spanking one. (Although if I couldn’t manage to make a spanking situation out of a café full of schoolgirls, I shouldn’t be entrusted with a keyboard and Wordpress account!)

So, here goes my “perverting reality.”

Breckenridge Academy, California’s most prestigious prep school, lets out for the day at 3:30 PM. It’s a time of day which Frank Sarchimor, coffee-shop proprietor, dreads. His café is just a block away from the academy, and he almost thinks he can hear the final bell ringing in his head every day.

At 3:40, his clean, well-lighted café is suddenly deluged with a range of kids who are loud, prone to shoving or just general clumsiness (he’s had to move the sales displays behind the counter), and just generally unmannered and unruly. After backing up the line at the counter so that customers are frustrated, they all also order iced blended mochas with shots of flavoured syrups (as if they needed the caffeine and sugar!), which throws his baristas into a frenzy of trying to get these complicated drink order fulfilled, which slows things down all the more. And the kids don’t tip, of course, which makes his baristas cranky.

By about 5PM every day, his beloved café is trashed. Straw wrappers everywhere (how did they get them to stick on the ceiling?) empty plastic cups, crumbs from brownies and rice krispy treats which had been used as projectile weapons between flirting boys and girls. Frank has to chip in on the clean-up every day, because if he doesn’t he fears his baristas would just go work at another café, and he’d finally just gotten them trained up right! The signs he keeps putting up on the walls, to “respect others and keep the noise down,” to “please have your order ready when you got in line,” and to “please bus the tables yourself,” are roundly ignored.

Then, the final nail in the coffin. Frank came out from his office after a particularly intense period of sound and fury to discover that a number of the thick coffee frappes had been spilled across the floors and tables and chairs like a Jackson Pollock piece. With java chips. The last two kids were sauntering out of his café, two girls in what seemed to be much shorter than regulation pleated skirts, blouses unbuttoned to show as much cleavage as possible, and insolent looks on their faces. Frank lost it and started yelling at them, demanding they come back and help clean up the mess they’d made. They just looked at him in patent disbelief, stuck out their tongues, and ran out the door giggling.

Frank made an appointment to speak with the head of Breckenridge Academy the next morning.

Mr. Morgans welcomed Frank to his office the next day. Frank had been concerned that, given the attitude of the spoiled brats who’d been frequenting his establishment, that his concerns would be brushed aside. But Mr. Morgans and he had a very satisfactory meeting of the minds, which led to Frank returning later in the day for a special school assembly….

When Kristin and Susan saw the coffee-shop guy on-stage with Mr. Morgans, they had yet another fit of giggles. How ridiculous that this little man had complained about them and their classmates! The Academy kids brought good money to his café, and had as much rights as any of his other customers – just ‘cause he didn’t like kids was his problem, not theirs!

Their giggles died away when they suddenly became aware that Mr. Morgans had called them both up onto the stage. They suddenly became intensely aware that the gym teacher had dragged a vaulting horse on-stage.

Mr. Morgans’ mood was not improved by the fact he had to call them up more than once, and that they came dragging their feet and slouching….

Mr. Morgans explained that while he knew Kristin and Susan were not the only offenders, they would serve this time to be an example for the whole school – Mr. Sarchimor and his café would be treated with respect, or more disciplinary actions would be handed out. If Mr. Morgans had to punish every student in the school, he would, and they had better believe it. Breckenridge Academy had very high standards, and the students would live up to those standards, or learn how to do so the hard way.

First Susan, then Kristin, had to lean over the horse, and suffer the embarrassment of their skirts flipped up. Mr Morgans himself personally attended to the punishment, using a paddle which was the subject of school myth, but which had, obviously to the detriment of the student body, not been used in years. It was worn quite smooth from years of being applied to errant school-children’s bottoms, but the smoothness did not in any way mitigate either the pain of the impact or the hideous stinging burn that lasted long after the stoke.

Image Courtesy of Girls Boarding School

It was twelve each, due to the fact that this bad behaviour had been going on for some time, now. Well before the twelfth whack, Kristin and Susan were howling, their faces red and wet with tears, their eyes puffy, and their noses requiring frequent sniffs to keep from embarrassing them further.

The assembly was silent, except for the occasional gasp of sympathy. Although some of the kids looked somewhat less terrified and more simply fascinated in the show….

As for Frank, he got to watch the whole thing. He was very satisfied seeing Susan and Kristin reduced to blubbering and very sorry girls, and he deeply enjoyed every moment of their stuttered apologies.

He was so pleased, he invited Mr. Morgans down for a cup of java, on the house. And over the steaming beverages, they shared some ideas for future school assemblies.

Because, after all, the youthful memory can be so short, can’t it. You just can’t keep down those high spirits. No, there would be plenty of reason to bring out the paddle in the future, and Frank was more than ready to help keep up the standards of the Academy and the community.

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And the winner is…? Well, um, us!

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