Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Posts Tagged ‘The Spanking Writers’

I am a dedicated reader of The Register (whom I hope do not mind being linked to by filthy pervert bloggers) and today my two worlds crashed, like particles in the Large Hadron Collider (Also known as “Large Hardon Collider” when news media slips up. Or is written by 15 year olds!), when I read this marvellous titbit of news, from El Reg reporting on the LHC:

Apparently the key to the business involves looking into something called “CP-violation”, which is some sort of deviance from normal behaviour on the part of antibottom beauties and their relatives – thus the more of them that can be created at the LHC, the sooner the missing 96 per cent of the universe can be tracked down – perhaps hidden in another dimension or something.

Whoooaaah! “CP-Violation”?! “Deviance from normal behaviour on the part of antibottom beauties”?!

It’s like the “boffins” at the LHC were asking for a dose of “perverting reality,” after a long night of staying up and doing complex maths.*

Either that or scientists are all pervs. Which I think is probably quite likely.

*Another thing I just have to quote is the part which nearly made me narf hot tea out my nose. I should know better than to drink my morning tea while catching up with El Reg!

By some process involving extremely hard sums and possibly some type of reinforced, extremely close-fitting hat to prevent their heads exploding (we could do with one of those just writing about it) the boffins managed to identify all of this on the mad snakes’ wedding of particle tracks pictured above and add up how much the original antibottomed beauty had weighed (5.32 Giga-electron-Volts, in case you’re wondering) pleasingly confirming that they had indeed summoned matter – and antimatter – into existence using only French and Swiss grid electricity.

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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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Okay, this is not a spanking-related post, but you can blame Haron, a Spanking Writer, for it, so it is spanking-related in it’s own special way!

Warning: what this IS is very geeky. Do not continue reading if rampant geekishness offends or frightens you! Also, if you don’t like kinky play that doesn’t involve spanking, just scroll down to the previous post now!

I watched Star Trek: The Next Generation when it first came out – I remember watching the first episode with my parents. It’s weird now to remember back to when I was young and watched TV with my parents in the evening. Although, come to think of it, some of my best memories of childhood are watching Benny Hill and Dr. Who with my dad in the evening. My mom didn’t approve of Benny Hill, but if you think about it, the jokes are often at the level where any child who can talk can appreciate them – because fart jokes are ageless – and kids don’t worry about the stuff that goes over their heads. They are so involved with the things they are focused on, that adult humor generally doesn’t tend to effect them the way some adults fear. Also, I used to get up and run around the room at the end of the show, and make my parents join in. So it really is family entertainment!)

(I can’t find an example of an ending “chase scene” to Yakety Sax on YouTube, but here are some gym skirts in action!)

But TNG didn’t make me a Star Trek geek. I enjoyed the shows, but fanaticism was not inspired. (I was too young to fully appreciate Captain Jean Luc Picard, I think!) What put me around the bend was something that happened when I was in college.

I didn’t have a TV in college – I figured it was an unneeded distraction, and I was happily entrenched in the superior-than-thou “Kill your television” ideal. But one day I’d burnt out all my synapses studying, and I found myself in the student lounge, watching an episode of Star Trek which featured Worf. I enjoyed it very much, but thought no more about it.

But that night, I had the most amazing dream. I was on the Klingon homeworld (Qo’noS, for those who care), with my fiancé, who happened to be a Klingon, and he was taking me around his hometown and showing it to me. I felt this amazing love for him – the most beautiful romantic love – and when I woke up, I actually felt slightly devastated that I’d never see him again, because I could still feel all that love in my heart.

From that moment on, Klingons became very diverting to me!
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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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