Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Archive for the ‘The Punishment Book’ Category

One upon a time, not that very long ago, there was a little girl, who would one day grow up to act in and make porn — not just a porn star but a porn monger!

However, she didn’t know that, yet, when she was in 1st grade (English version: Primary school, year 2). She was a sometimes naughty girl (although she was shy enough to mostly be naughty at home, but more well-behaved in public), but she was certainly on the path to becoming the girl she would someday be, as her taste for spanking had already been set by The Lonely Doll.

One day, this girl heard a rumour: that there was a boy who was selling – gasp – porn on school grounds (during recess, to be precise.) After a little investigation, she discovered that it was grainy black and white photocopies of the naked “native women” in National Geographic.

The impressive early business model was lost on her. So was the fact that the images being sold were barely titillating in the slightest.

So, you ask, what did she do with this information?

She tattled. Yes, really. If you ask the girl she is today, she can’t for the life of her think why she would do that sort of thing. Everyone hates a snitch. She never was a tattle-tale at any other time (well, except sometimes on her little sister, but that doesn’t count!) and she had not been brought up in a puritanical household where such notions would be instinctively offensive to her — thus, her later career in the erotic arts!

There are two ends to this story.

The first is that she did get a comeuppance — you’ll be glad to know! The boy whom she snitched on found her alone in the playground one afternoon. He chased her all the way up to the top of the jungle gym and stuffed sticky milkweed down her shirt. A fair enough revenge, you might think, except that this girl is the sort who would enjoy being chased and having stuff done to her when caught, so it was really more of a reward.

The second ending … hasn’t happened yet! And here’s where you come in: what long belated punishment is due to this girl? Looking back on it, she feels badly about her actions, and of course, it is horribly ironic that she even now makes money from the very thing that she ratted someone out for all those years ago. Even it it is clear enough that she has learned her lesson, it is only right that she be punished – the kind-hearted among you would do it to purge her guilt. (And the rest of you are just sadists and we know why you’d do it!)

So … what shall it be…?

I wanted to make sure that Saturday was less hectic than Friday, but I didn’t mean it to be so mellow that I missed the Punishment Book meeting! But I slept in late, and then Mr. Defeu and I had some nice morning sex, and by the time I realized what was going on (i.e, that the PB meeting as not on Sunday after all), we barely made it down in time for brunch with Mija, Paul, Rad, and Miss Cassandra. (Note, I see Rad has explained that he can only be mentioned “as long as it’s glowing bordering on gushing” – so he should consider himself thus described as shining brighter than a glow-in-the-dark Jesus, and gushing in a manner that would make Niagra falls jealous!)

Then Mr. Defeu and I chilled for a while, before he got called off to help the Northern folks with some errands, and I started my prepping for my outfit for that evening. To the right, a shot taken while hanging out pre-ball with Mija, Paul, Fireman Chris and Serenity, Iris and M, and Bailey.

• Black Satin Bullet Bra
• 6-Strap Garter Belt
• Pin-Up Girl Stockings
• 50′s Rockabilly Satin Dot Halter Dress
• Satin Bolero Jacket

(I’ve linked above to a nice dress that’s like the one I’m wearing, but the one I’m wearing is special because it’s loaned to me by the delicious Pandora. Although I may tell her if she wants it back she has to come to San Francisco and wrest it from my body personally!)

The dinner part of the evening was nice – and the food wasn’t bad; better than last year’s, I felt – and I basically played musical chairs moving around the table talking to people. And a whole bunch of San Franciscans stopped by to talk to me, which was so cool – of course, it is perhaps ironic that we had to go to Vegas to meet and/or get a chance to chat! My local peeps should feel free to stay in touch with me – we talked about lots of cool ideas for spanking parties and stuff!

My only complaint was that the music got cranked to 11 while I was trying to talk to people. I was already loosing my voice from all the talking and from the smoky air (it’s weird, after living in CA, to be in a place where there is smoking allowed indoors! My throat’s just not used to that sort of thing anymore!) and since there was only a small number of people shakin’ their booties, the volume seemed disproportionately loud. I would really prefer that there be a dance floor area, and an eating/talking area, and the music kept to background-level in the latter. If I want to go dancing, I’ll go dancing whether or not the music is turned up – and if I want to talk, having to shout over music just makes me cranky.

This increased volume encouraged most of my friends it was time to move on to suite parties Read the rest of this entry »

She could have thought of better things to do of a Saturday, but she was okay with visiting Uncle Duncan. After all, it had to be better than Daddy’s lectures, right?

Daddy said (over and over) that he was disappointed with her recent behaviour, and that she needed to go and stay with Uncle Duncan for the weekend. Whatever. She could wrap him around her little finger in no time, and then have the same fun on weekends as usual. Maybe she could get an even better set-up, actually. And since her uncle lived in another town, that was a whole new social scene to discover. New boys to meet. Yes, this could work very well….

She got the train, and walked over to Uncle Duncan’s house with her overnight bag. He was waiting for her in the living room.

She greeted him with cheerful casualness, but he didn’t reciprocate.

“I see you are in your uniform, as I requested.”

“Yeah, but Uncle Duncan, this sucks. It’s the weekend. I get to wear what I want on the weekends!”

“Not when you visit me. You, my girl, have not been living up to expectations. I’ve heard about your shameful behaviour from your father.”

“Yeah, Daddy’s been so cranky recently! But I know you’re not like that!”

“On the contrary, my girl, you shall find I’m even more like that. Your father has sent you to me because he finds he is to tender with you, his love for you gets in the way of the discipline you so obviously need. I will not have that problem.”

“Awww, com’on, Uncle! You don’t have to be like that! We could have some fun while I’m out here! Wouldn’t that be better?”

“You are not helping your case, young lady.”

This conversation went on like this for a while. She couldn’t quite believe that her uncle was being like this. This was so stupid. She told him so.

“I don’t like your attitude, miss. Get over the side of the sofa.” He got up to help her bend properly over the arm of the sofa.

“No! You can’t do that!” She fought against him.

“You’ll find I can.” He pushed her back down.

“But that’s not legal anymore! And I’ll tell Daddy!”

“Your father has asked me to discipline you as you so clearly deserve. I have his permission, indeed his implicit authorization, to do as I wish with you.” His large hands pushed her chest down into the cushions, and one hand grabbed her arm and pulled it up behind her back.

“Heyyyy! No! You’re a pervert! Get off me!”

“You are only making it all the more obvious, girl.” He flipped her grey skirt up, despite her protests. Instead of regulation knickers, he discovered a pair of shocking panties, skimpy cut, with a cut-out at the top of the back brazenly showing off where her bottom cheeks met.

“Well, my girl, that is certainly asking for my attentions!” He gave her some heavy-handed smacks on the poorly concealed area.

“It wasn’t for you to see! Let my skirt down now, and let me up!”

“I can see I’m going to have to teach you a lesson. Hold still.” His heavy hickory cane, deeply detested by more than one girl, was close to hand. He aimed at her squirming bottom, and the cane sliced against it. It would be her fault if she didn’t like how it landed.

“Yeeeow! Stop that! Let go!”

The can cut down again and again, and she screeched and writhed, showing her complete lack of discipline. Her foot came up to protect her bottom, since her arms were both trapped. He ordered her to move her foot, and when she didn’t, he let the cane come down, not too heavily, across it. It was heavily enough to impress her, as she nearly fell off the sofa. She screamed, but when he hauled her back up, and resumed caning her, her foot stayed down. After a few more strokes, he let her up.

“Now, put these on,” he instructed her, and handed her a pair of bottle green polyester knickers.
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