Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Posts Tagged ‘Janus’

Since everyone enjoyed the last Lost & Found, here’s one from one of the best Classic Spanking films (IMHO) which Mr Defeu gave to me to watch. It was a pleasure to dig this one out of the archives and relive the memories of watching it, back when I was living in Suburbia (October 10, 2005!) and officially dating Bear … and wildly in love with Mr Defeu, and not knowing yet that my life was about to drastically change…!

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I was missing you terribly this evening, Sir, and then I had the thought that what better way to show you that your girl is thinking of you than to do an assignment!

Since you made the CDs in no certain order, I’ve ended up watching them that way. So this evening, I randomly chose a disk, and then chose a title from the list that amused me: not “Lisa Will Be Caned,” or “Lisa Really Ought To Be Caned,” but that imperative “Must!”

Well, as you can guess, Sir, I just adored it. There was only one thing missing in a video full of CP and general Brit goodness! After reading Smash Hits on the swing-set, she wanted to go up to her room to watch Dr. Who! And he was reading Janus, hahaha!

And “Now, jut your bum out!” is just so much better as an order to stick out one’s ass than anything an American could possibly say! And I loved the selection that increased in severity: the hand, the paddle, the belt, and then the cane. And the having to stand in the corner while he watched what looked like a very odd show on the telly! The only thing that I missed and would have liked to see was him being a bit more rough with her: I mean, she was in trouble at school and she was indeed being impudent, well into the punishment! When she reached behind herself to protect her bottom from further punishment, he would just push her hand away impatiently and she would be free to do it again right away. I would have been more aroused to see his hand roughly grab her wrist and hold it up against her back. Although I did wryly appreciate that if her hands got in the way too much he’d just smack them instead, which seemed to work pretty efficiently, too.
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Apologies all, for coming back with a vengeance and then disappearing again. I was all set to put some real time and energy back into this blog … but then the novel I’ve been wanting to write finally started flowing, and I’ve been putting all my energy into that, because I would actually like to get the thing written and published in this lifetime. I can only do so much writing in a day (and so much non-immediately-paying-work, or things start to get a little uncomfortable in the wallet region), so for the next I don’t know how many months, I’m only going to be up here when I can steal a moment or two from the novel.

A funny thing I wanted to write about writing the novel is that I’ve been working on a sex scene these past two days, and it’s taking me way longer to write what is essentially a vanilla sex scene than it would to write a nice spanko piece of erotica. Not that I wouldn’t put a spanking scene in the novel, but it’s not the right place for it in that spot. Since it’s not a spanking scene, I’m trying to write a really good vanilla scene — one that authentically turns me on, but is not too filthy to sell to a normal publisher. (Although I have been noticing that novels now can have scenes as explicit as any porn — it’s just a matter of not having them be too kinky without at least a tenuous reason.)

So, it’s taking me waaaay longer to write this quite basic scene, then it would for me to write a much more intricate spanko one. Amusing.

Also amusing: Chross just recently posted a James Bond clip I’d forgotten all about, but which certainly turned me on when I was a teenage girl watching the all Bond flicks for the first time:

Of course, now I’m going to have, “Gold — fingah!” being sung in my head all day by Shirley Bassey. [sigh]

I see Chross one Bond film, and raise him a Star Trek spoof with equally delightful sexism:

The whole joy of being a post-feminist, I feel, is getting to eroticise being treated like a brainless “little lady,” a second-class citizen who is expected to stay at home and keep out of the men’s way, dear, we’ve got some real business to attend to. Why don’t you go make us some coffee, there’s a good girl!

There’s something so hot about that for me. That casual, “I can slap your bottom any time I like because I’m the superior man, and you are basically a pet who can do the cooking and wash up (if you don’t need someone with superior brains and/or strength to fix something first, that is, in which case I will shake my head and give you the help you need with noblesse oblige oozing out of my ever-so-superior pores).” I like that I can choose to live in (or visit!) that world. (Of course, it’s the fact that it’s a choice that makes it hot, so I thank my bra-burning fore-mothers for that.)

It reminds me that the other night Mr. Defeu and I were watching TV, and there was something on about a culture (or something — I’m blanking on it, now) where the women are inferior to the men. I turned to him and gave him a nudge and said, “Oh, like in Blushes or Janus! That’s your sort of world!”

“No,” he replied with the calm smile of someone about to smoothly deliver a punchline, “Not inferior … just different .. and subordinate!”

Phwoar! (A., What a sexy delivery — I’m so turned on by that sort of thing, and B., that relaxed and certain superiority is just what I was talking about above as being hot for me. Double whammy!) That sort of thing just makes me want to go off and have the kind of hot kinky sex where I am obviously there for his pleasure, because that’s what a wife is for, to serve and please her husband, right?!

Ooooh! I’m all hot and bothered, now. Maybe must go have a moment of, ahem, personal relief before I go back to writing my novel!

Last Sunday, Bonnie over at My Bottom Smarts asked:

Have you ever decided to give up spanking? If so, for what reasons? Did you expect to walk away forever or did you anticipate a temporary abstinence? Why did you return?

Well, I started my reply, but then got to busy to get it up in time, so I’ve finally finished it, and I’m posting it here.

I’ve known that I was kinky since earliest memory. But when I was about twelve, I renounced everything “weird” about me, because I wanted to stop being a geek, bookworm, and general nerd, and become “popular.” One of the “weird” things I rejected about myself was the sexuality I had always somehow known was “different.” So I decided that I would be straight, vanilla – I started reading romances to give me an idea of how to be “normal” sexually. (I’m not sure that was a very good plan – in a very non-feminist way those books are kinky in their own way!)

Happily, when I was 17, my friends sort of conspired to “out” me as kinky to myself. One friend gave me “Exit to Eden,” for my birthday. Another gave me “Venus in Furs.” And the girl I had my first crush on one day brought in a pair of handcuffs to school … and when she put them on me, I felt so horny I could have popped!

Even so, I fought it a bit. I was worried that if I started getting off on pain, “I’ll forget how to get off on pleasure.” (Don’t ask me where I got that idea! And, happily, it hasn’t been the case. Sometimes when my Master and I have vanilla sex, I’m overwhelmed by how good vanilla can be!)

So it wasn’t until college, after my first reading of Pat Califia’s “Macho Sluts,” (I skipped all my classes, stayed in bed and read and masturbated all day!) that I fully accepted that I was a full-on, no holds barred pervert.

So I spent about 6 years in denial of some form or another. Happily, this didn’t really interfere with too much of my adult life … but if I look back and think that instead of doing risky “mostly-safer-sex” (I was really only concerned about pregnancy – considerations of herpes or genital warts or other STDs just didn’t even enter into it!) I could have just been getting spankings – like in some Blushes story, where an Older Gentleman steps forward to protect, educate, and discipline a young lady, sighhhhh – it does make me wish I’d never sworn off it!

My Master had his own period of renouncing spanking. As a young man, he had built up quite a collection of Janus and Blushes magazines. He’s not here for me to ask him exactly what age he swore off spanking, and threw them all out, but it was before his 30s, I’m pretty sure. You can hear the regret in his voice when he talks about the magazines he simply discarded – some of which he has not been able to replace, in the years since he reclaimed his kinky sexual birthright.

Both he and I thought we were “walking away forever” when we made our choices. And we both returned because we had no choice. I had good friends who forced me to confront my desires, my core-self. He moved to the US and discovered spanking parties and being able to go to dungeons and pay nice ladies to lay across his lap.

And thank the gods of CP that we both allowed ourselves to accept that part of ourselves – or we probably would never have met!

The people over at sexandsubmission.com don’t do enough shoots of schoolgirls getting spanked (IMHO) but when they do, they don’t mess around!

(Here’s a free gallery from this shoot, including video!)

So, what do you guys think of this shoot? In the first place, do you like seeing sex with your spanking, or do you just want spankings? And what about the use of the electro-play buttplug and vibrator in the shoot — is that hot, or does that break up the “Cinéma vérité” for you? (Of course, they do explain that it’s a “science project,” so they at least get points for trying!) Do you like seeing schoolgirls treated like that, or do you just want them to be lectured, spanked, and sent home for a strappin from their father?

I guess what I’m saying is … do you like this more extreme version of schoolgirl scene, or would you prefer it Janus Magazine style?

This is a fantasy that has been running through my mind pretty much every time I’ve masturbated in the past couple weeks. I though I’d share it … and maybe if my Master likes reading it, it will come true!

I’m bent over the convertible step-stool-chair , which has been converted to its step-stool aspect. The wood is cold under my lower tummy and hips. My ankles and wrists are in the leather cuffs, which are clipped to the O-rings on the legs of the chair. I can squirm, but I can’t do anything else.

And I’m about to squirm. Because you have the ginger plug which you made me carve – how sadistic to make me create the instrument of my own torture….

You wet it with some cold water, and take a wet finger and tease my anus with it, making me involuntarily tighten up. You laugh and tell me that I can’t keep the ginger out – that since you want it up there, I have no choice in the matter.
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