Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Posts Tagged ‘school uniform’

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 will get to our story in progress (I’m working on it already, no worries!) but I wanted to quickly point out some areas of interest in the spankosphere.

Both Haron and Mystery Minx have various unique visions on the joy of shopping for schoolgirl uniforms. It’s amusing that it’s August, and parents around the country are placing their orders online for jumpers and pleated skirts for little Suzie, or dragging little Joey in to get this year’s trousers-and-blazer. You’d think we had the same schedule in the spanko world, which is sorta incorrect, because there’s never a bad time to buy a new pleated skirt for us. However, there is the fact that almost every spanko group manages to have a “Back To School Party” (I’ll be going to the Shadow Lane one!) in the autumn, so I guess we do have reason to be frequenting the school uniform stores at the same time as actually school-goers!

In other news, I’ve been neglecting recognizing the brilliance of my fellow spanko bloggers for too long. Pandora’s comments to Graham are a good place to start, as not only do both write very well on the topic of the value of silence in a scene, but they also name-check lots of other good writers, doing half my job for me!

I did put in a quick comment on Graham’s post, but I’ll go into my own thoughts a little, here…. When I first started playing with my Master, I was soooooo terrified that he would be disappointed in me — and this led immediately in my mind to him breaking things off with me — I was so desperately in love with him that I was very twitchy at this state, and being both nervous about impressing my shiny new Master and learning about being a spanko left me in a really uncertain place. To add to that, I was learning about spanko stuff from Janus and Blushes and Roué (“Oh my!”) magazines, and often they featured the headmaster telling the young lady about to be corrected that she’d better not make a peep as he gave her her punishment, or from the point of view of a schoolgirl thinking that she’d better be brave and take all her strokes without yelping. I thought those were my proper template, and I tired to be as stoic as possible whenever I got a chance to play with my Master.

Then, of course, he showed me spanking videos, and I got a very different template, since girls were yelping and protesting from the first swat.

This was confusing, to understate things. During scenes where my pain tolerance was low, I’d feel like a terrible wimp and a let-down. But if I was in a place where I could take a lot, and just focus on the pain by going to an internal place and being very quiet, then I’d feel like I wasn’t giving him an entirely satisfactory experience.

In the end, of course, things have come to be about a combination of what is naturally me, and what turns him on. In the usual course of things, I’m really pretty noisy. And I love being able to scene where I can be as loud as I like without upsetting the neighbours. (And this is entirely skirting the topic of sex. I was nicknamed “the banshee” in college, and I think that’s all we need to say about that!)

But sometimes I do go into this odd headspace where he can just whack away at my bottom with a cane or strap, and I go all quiet, just breathing deeply to deal with the pain.

And he is happy with both of those. (Although I think the latter sometimes discomforts him, since he can’t as easily read my reactions.) But the main thing is that he accepts and values all my ways of dealing with the CP he dishes out, and so I’ve become free to just react naturally – and my reactions change over time, and go through phases, and etc.

I’m sure at some future point, I’ll be in a scene where silence is demanded of me. And it will be a struggle, and lord knows how it will turn out (I assume I will have a very striped botty, but I think that’s a safe assumption regardless!)

But my sneaking suspicion is that there are few spankers who really want an entirely stoic spankee. If anything, the exhortation to be silent is done because everyone knows it’s well-nigh impossible, and it gives the spanker a reason to add on another set of six of the best….

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Okay, okay — I have acceded to your demands (and even threats – for shame, Fyre!) and gotten the next part of the adventures up for your delectation….

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But as the whacks resound from the bottom of the imp in the other room, it reminds me of the whacks my bottom received from HH. Once over his lap, his hand started raining down hard – HARD – on my bottom. I was gasping and squirming in no time.

And then … he informed me my knickers would have to come down. And darned if I don’t feel embarrassed and anxious, as if I hadn’t been making porn for years and you can’t google for pictures of my pink bits on the web! Anyway, my unexpectedly delicate sensibilities were not of concern to either my Master or HH, so down my knickers came, me blushing madly (although OTK, with your head down, it’s hard to tell if you’re embarrassed or it’s just all the blood rushing to your head!)

The spanking then proceeded, and kept up for a while. It was one of those periods in time when you need it to be over because the pain is pushing you right to the edge, but at the same time you never want it to end. I continued gasping and squirming.

But it was nothing like the squirming I’d be doing once HH started to apply his infamous hairbrush to my bottom. Yikes, that stung! I think at that point he had to grab my arm, because there was no holding still while those smacks rained down on me!

Then, HH picked me up, and told me to go over to my Master and restate to him what I’d done wrong, and that I’d learned my lesson. It was really well done, because if I was overwhelmed, I could have just apologized and things could be concluded. But I was soooo not ready for things to be over, so I put on my brat-hat and earned myself some more CP, this time in the form of the tawse. And, since I’d upped the ante with my bratting, he upped the ante from his end (that would be, onto my rear end!) by putting me in a very compromising position: knees on an ottoman, with my hands on the ground … and my bottom very much up in the air, with all my tender bits really exposed. “This is going to huuuuurt…” I thought as he picked up the tawse and started in on me. And I was right! That strip of leather wrecked havoc all over my bottom and the tops of my thighs. I was doing breathing exercises (yes, yelping is a part of breathing exercises!) and just holding on for the ride.

Again, HH gave me a chance for contrition, and the CP to be over. But I still didn’t want this wonderful time to be over – I was high on adrenalin and thus continued in my recalcitrant ways. So it was time for the cane (the man travels well-prepared for any contingency!) I was then on the sofa on my hands and knees, another “not particularly favourite” position (as in, I can’t just let the side of the furniture hold me up!) and I knew I was in for it.
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