Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Archive for the ‘tawse/belt’ Category

The wonderful author Wilbur Smith often has references to spanking in his Egyptian Series — pretty much any time there is someone growing up in them they get threatened with a good thwacking as needed. Here are some examples:

“Get on with it, Taita. You are teasing me now. I order you to tell me this very minute or, or,” she groped for a threat to coerce me, “or I shall beat you again.”

“Answer me straight or I will whip your insolent backside, you little baggage.” I had done so before, so she relented and muttered sulkily…”

Tanus lifted the whip on high, and then brought it down in a full-armed stroke with all his weight behind it. He laid a purple welt as fat as my forefinger across Shufti’s back. So intense was the pain of it that the bandit’s entire body convulsed and the air hissed out of his lungs, so that he could not scream. Tanus lifted the lash and then meticulously laid another ridged welt exactly parallel to the first, almost but not quite touching it. This time Shufti filled his lungs and let out a hoarse bellow, like a buffalo bull caught in a pitfall. Tanus ignored his struggles and outraged roars and worked on assiduously, laying on the strokes as though he were weaving a carpet.
When at last he was done, his victims legs, buttocks and back were latticed with the fiery weals. Not one of the blows had overlaid another. The skin was intact and not a drop of blood had spilled out, but Shufti was not longer wriggling or screaming. He lay with his face in the dirt….

These are just a few from River God: A Novel of Ancient Egypt. There are lots more examples in this and the other books in his Egyptian Series.

I was wandering around Wilbur Smith’s website today, and I found the influence for some of those references:

My old man was a Victorian father and ran a tight ship. He would not hesitate to pull his belt out of the loops of his trousers and give me taste of the buckle end. That was perfectly all right with me. I usually deserved it, and a few shots across my skinny little buttocks was small price to pay for being close to him. To me he was God on earth, and I worshipped him.

For me, that paternal-focused adoration is beautiful — and hot! (Although I myself shudder at the thought of “the buckle end” of a belt – but then, I’m a wimpy American girl who didn’t grow up playing in the African bush, so perhaps more extreme measures were required for young Wilbur?)

This also again underscores a point I’ve brought up often in this blog: that it’s the parental figure/dominant who disciplines who gets the worshipful love of the girl/boy/submissive. As Wilbur says, “To me he was God on earth, and I worshipped him.” That’s how I feel about my Master, so I understand it completely. And notice that he brings up his adulation of his father in context of discipline? My point is so proved!

Amusingly, he brings up something else I recently discussed (albeit on The Punishment Book blog):

My father felt that my obsession with books was unnatural and unhealthy. I was forced to become a secret reader. I spent so much time in the outhouse long-drop latrine, where I kept a cache of my favourite books, that my father ordered my mother to administer regular and copious doses of castor oil.

More CP comes in when he was off at boarding school:

Then I received my first caning; three strokes across the backside with a light cane for the heinous crime of talking after ‘lights out’ in the dormitory. My father would never have been so unjust.

Later:

I moved on to senior school, Michaelhouse; AKA St Michael’s academy for young gentlemen. This was a manifest misnomer as there was not a single gentleman amongst us. Here it was very much the same thing all over again, except much worse. The food was awful and the beatings heavier and more frequent.

However, all you school uniform aficionados will be saddened that he wasn’t much impressed with girls in school uniforms:

After four years of durance and misery …. Paradise opened before me, for here there were girls who did not wear gym slips and walk to church in crocodile formation.

This post connects so many things for me. I am re-reading all of these books of course, because of the whole Crook and Flail thing. It also makes me think of the post I did on The Happy Valley caning scenes. But most importantly, this post from 2007, wherein I discuss the basis for our Master/slave relationship, and my growth as a submissive. Re-reading that post was really fascinating to me — in so many ways I’m disappointed that I’ve not grown more as a person since then, but I am quietly satisfied that I have continued learning how to trust and let go — how to be less immediate in needing to have things go my way, more able to accept things being out of my control — all the things that not only make a better submissive, but in general a happier, more contented person!

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I’ve been away from this blog too much recently, a combination of travel, holidays, and some poor health, and it’s been taking me forever to catch up with my friends in the spankosphere. But the fault is not mine! So many blogs have been pouring out really brilliant stuff recently.

First up, The Mystery Minx just posted a very intimate look at her early desires for school uniforms. Since she doesn’t post much, one needs to savour every post we get out of her! Go tell her she needs to post more!

Next, I’m totally jealous of Adele Haze, who did a kinky 12 Days of Christmas. That’s just the hottest thing ever. (And, unlike Leia-Ann Woods, I am still a “a spanking virgin of 2010” so when I say I’m jealous, I really mean it!)

Spankingblog.com posted the coolest Krampus picture as his Christmas gift to us this year. Thanks!

Kami did a scene with HH which gave her the wondrous revelation about herself as a spanko. While I personally would like to be left alone while I exercise (it hurts enough, thankyouverymuch, and when I work out I’m just focused on moving my body correctly or if it’s yoga, maintaining proper alignment, so I don’t need painful distractions) I agree with Kami that yes, everyone wants to see girls in gym shorts take a caning. At least my Master does, and his tastes have not just rubbed off on mine — completely supplanted (or at least modified) most of my fantasies.

EmmaJane visited a very dark fantasy recently. It really worked for me! (Although if you have abuse issues, I don’t recommend you try it – it’s all-too well-written.)

And The Spanking Writers always set a high standard, but even they have been sharing the most brilliant stuff recently. The pencil between the teeth story, for one, and a Christmas spanking, and then … well, I was totally bowled over when they honoured me with “Hottest Kinky Blog” in their The 2009 Spanking Writers Awards. I still haven’t thanked them properly, and honestly I don’t really know how – it means so much to me!

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In honour of The Spanking Writers, I think this image calls for a story….

The Spankme Building has a old and venerable reputation as one of the finest disciplinary institutions. The young ladies whom the state sends for stays of variable duration to the apartments live in reasonable luxury, indeed, it is a step up for many of these girls, and their visit marks a period of growth and transformation in their lives.

Mr. Mankeps is currently the administrator of the Spankme Building. He takes his job very seriously, although it cannot be said he does not enjoy his work. When the young ladies arrive, he explains their new temporary life. Education and discipline are the purpose of The Spankme Building, and the staff ensure that the girls follow their strict new schedule and truly understand the lessons being taught there.

But before he turns them over to the staff, Mr. Mankeps introduces each girl to a taste of Spankme discipline. A sampling of each of the implements she might taste during her duration in the Building: the cane, the strap, the paddle, the hairbrush, and the slipper. Girls who are obedient and well-mannered at this first session get only six from each.

But girls who are defiant and insubordinate do not leave Mr. Mankeps office until they have come to accept his authority, and show themselves ready to accept the harsh but vital education that they need to re-enter society.

(After all — this is our tax dollars at work, here. We aren’t paying for this delinquents to just take advantage of our enlightened system!)

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I’m feeling a bit under the weather today, but it was worth it for the fever-inspired dream last night!

My Uncle was disciplining me, and he demanded I put on my old school uniform for it. I refused, saying it was embarrassing and I was too old to have to wear the ugly outfit. The knickers, I complained, were uncomfortable and ugly – as was the skirt, and the shirt was scratchy and the blazer shapeless and unflattering. I’m sure I had complaints about my socks, shoes, and tie, too!

For each piece of the uniform that I refused to put on, he strapped me until I complied. This process took a while, as I was very recalcitrant, and had to be strapped to tears each time.

Once I was finally dressed and resigned, I was surprised and dismayed to discover that the discipline was yet to come – now I was to be caned (with my blazer and skirt pulled up, and my knickers pulled down – but all still on!) and it was implied that after he’d finished caning me into a sobbing mess, he’d be roughly fucking my ass (to further demonstrate his authority, of course, and anyway, in my universe, that’s just what Uncles do!)

When I woke up I told my Master all about it. I hope we make that dream come true this weekend…!

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I don’t even know where to start with this overwhelming weekend!

Yes, yes, I can hear you, “Begin at the beginning and when you get to the end … stop.” Okay, okay….

We left on Friday, and Shadow Lane was already in full swing when we got there. It seems people had arrived as early as Tuesday, and some were leaving Monday or later. It seemed smart when we had bought the plane tickets not to spend too much time there, when we were unsure of how much we’d enjoy it, but by the time September rolled around, we’d made enough friends in the spanking scene that it meant we didn’t get enough time to talk as much as we’d have liked with our new friends. Next time – longer trip, more partying!

The Mystery Minx was our main priority, as she lives quite far away from us, and we’ve already become quite addicted to her company. Happily, we did manage to get some quality time with her….

Anyway, we got there Friday afternoon. I had been stupid the night before, and had not taken a sleeping pill, and I ended up with terrible insomnia, because I was as excited a kid going away to summer camp for the first time. (This is not as unlikely a comparison as one would think…!) But it did mean that I felt very tired when we got to the hotel, and really not ready to sudden go to a huge party with hundreds of strangers, a few friends whom I knew from online, and about three people I knew in person!

The Minx was knocking at our door the minute we got to our room, and seeing her was brilliant. She and I had done the girly thing, and bought each other a million little gifts, so we got some room service and babbled excitedly at each other. The only problem was that I just wanted to stay in the room and hang out with her all night … I was terrified of going down to that party.

I’m not sure if you have figured this out about me, but “I only play extroverted on TV.” I’m really just a shy geek who’d rather stay in and discuss science fiction or spanking with her friends. (Or yes, have a small orgy, but it’s only ever been a small one, I tell you, and only with people I know and like!)

I had somehow managed to forget my shyness, myself. I think the last time I was this nervous was my first SkinTwo RubberBall, but even then I knew that I wouldn’t have to be conversing with that many people: we’d be in a crowded space that would be have too much thumpy-thumpy loud music to encourage much in the way of discussion.

But at this event, I’d actually have to talk to people! [gasp] And suddenly my powers of scintillating and effervescent conversation seemed to have fled altogether. And I was nervous about my outfits: it’s one thing to be a schoolgirl in a room full of other kinks. But I was about to be a schoolgirl in a room full of schoolgirls and headmasters….

I tormented the Minx with text after whiny text, “Help! What are you wearing?” “Which knickers should I wear?” “I don’t want to be the only one in uniform!” She finally responded by bringing down Young Bridget (both of them looking delicious in their uniforms!) to braid her hair in my room and try and get me to mellow out. (Showing wisdom and compassion far past her tender years, I might add!)

So, down we all went, and I felt a bit better for being in a group. Although I must say that walking through a Vegas casino in a group of uniformed schoolgirls was one of the more surreal moments in a life that I thought had already been stuffed full of very fantastic and bizarre experiences! (At the aforementioned RubberBall, getting into a cab as Queen Elisabeth I, with a Cardinal in leather – my Master – and a gorgeous woman dressed like Jessica Rabbit – but in rubber – was one of those! At least the cabbie seemed amused!)

Things continued to improve on the way in, as I finally met Tony of Shadow Lane in the flesh, and chatted a bit with him. The food was odd, but edible (I ended up eating a large plate of tasty roast beef and fresh, very ripe, melon slices) and then I couldn’t poke at my food anymore, I had to actually start talking to all these strange new people. (Well, okay, no stranger than me, in general, just strange to me!)
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