Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Posts Tagged ‘The Spanking Writers’

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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An excellent post (as always) from The Spanking Writers includes a (more introspective than I ever imagined) quote from Scary Spice:

The anticipation was worse than the punishment. I knew exactly what was coming. I’d walk into a silent room, bend over, get smacked (by his hand or a belt), then stand up and walk out of the room without saying a word…. I dreaded it. Sometimes, though, I think I was naughty on purpose, just to get dad’s full attention for a few minutes.

In the first place, that very anticipation and the ritual aspect are both vital. But that’s not what I want to write about just now.

As a little girl I wanted my daddy’s attention. (Well, I wanted all the attention I could get from everyone, but my daddy’s counted the most!) And I’d do anything to get it — good behaviour, bad behaviour — whatever worked best! And since my parents didn’t really punish me very efficaciously, it was just as likely to be the latter as the former, when I was a child! In my teens it changed — then I wanted him to pay as little attention to me as possible, so I could do the stuff I wanted to do with him not forbidding me or lecturing me!

Now I have come full circle, but at least I am self-aware. I want my Daddy’s attention as much as possible. When he is busy on the computer, and doesn’t have time for me, it hurts just as much as when I was a little girl and my daddy had to work.

There is an amusing family story that when I was about 5 or 6, my bio-father had a meeting one weekend day. Now, I had accepted that my daddy would be at work during the day on weekdays, but weekends were MINE, and I was a jealous god little girl. So I pitched a fit with all the power of my wee vocal cords and body (the vocal cords, I am given to understand, were not unimpressive, and my mother assures me I was Olympic-level for throwing myself on the ground and pounding my little fists and feet.

My dad gave his lecture with me on his hip.

And I was a happy little girl, because I was with my daddy. (And, of course, I’d WON!)

Now I’m in a slightly different place. Not in my desires — they are still as simple as wanting to be with my Daddy, and wanting attention from him. But now I don’t want to be a spoiled creature — I want the discipline to not throw fits when I don’t get my way. (I don’t, for the record, still throw myself to the ground and scream and pound my fists. But there are adult behaviours, the worst of which include manipulation and being passive-aggressive, which are just as vile as any childish misbehaviour! And my mom is a very passive-aggressive manipulator, so I live in terror of having picked those things up from her!)

However, no matter how well I may learn to accept that I can’t always get all the attention (which I think will be a life-time’s study!), punishment will always have as it’s most beguiling attraction, the fact that when you are being punished, all your punisher’s attention is right on you. And as much as you may dislike the pain or other educational aspects of punishment, you can still bask in the attention being lavished upon you.

I suppose a contrary person might point out that then, in my case, a true punishment for me is simply to ignore me. I have two answers to that: in the first place, this is supposed to be loving discipline — not cruel and unusual punishment! And secondly, my Master and I have the complimentary urges, wired into our sexuality, to be punisher-and-punishee. And since we’ve been lucky enough to find each other, in this wide world full of mistakes and missed connections, we really both ought to derive some enjoyment from our mutual needs that now can be fulfilled.

And what that means is that I need to police myself a bit, and not act too badly, be a little bit in charge of myself and consider my actions and words. The reward for that effort though, is getting to revisit being a little girl who gets punished by her Daddy, having his love and concern for her proven with his attentions, over and over again.

(And somehow, getting lectured became hot for me, too, somewhere along all of this. I remember saying as a teen that no punishment could be worse than my dad droning on at me. Now my Master can’t make me a happier lil’ pervert than if he reads me the riot act before my thrashing!)

*Please note that I’m not calling anyone stupid! I’m misquoting “It’s the economy, stupid” from Bill Clinton’s 1992 presidential campaign.

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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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