Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Posts Tagged ‘victorian’

I’ve got Victorian spanking stories on the mind. I’ve been re-reading The Pearl, a long-time favorite, and I have to say that, with the exception of Janus magazine (and Blushes and Roue, too, of course!) Victorian erotica is what I will turn to when I want to read something that will get me drenchingly excited.

When I was about 17, I was stuck with my family in a vaction house over the summer. There were no friends around, and the locals my age had no desire to fraternize with a vacationer. So it was just me and my little sister, and we could get tired of each other’s company pretty fast.

But the house my parents had rented was full of bookshelves. So, being the bookwormy geek that I am, I settled down for a summer of reading other people’s books.

And then I found, innocently enough in a shelf with other random paperbacks, A Man with a Maid and that seriously effected the rest of my summer, which was then spent mostly in my room!

I didn’t have any sex toys, so I went looking around the house for some likely insertable, that no one would think was too strange if they found by my bed. Lo and behold, the table knives were these huge utensils, with sleek, rounded handles. They also curved nicely to one end, as if made to seek out a G-spot! So a knife was secreted by my bed, and I figured if Mom found it I could just tell her I’d been having a late-night snack, “And the knife just fell down there — I was wondering where it went! Couldn’t find it for the life of me!” (It would have been soooooo transparent, but happily my mother never found the furtive bed-side table knife!)

After I went off to college, I could more easily lay hands on erotic books (and keep them undiscovered!) so books like Beauty in the Birch, Frank and I and, The Yellow Room. These were read over and over, and cherished, and if I was a guy, the pages would have been sticky! (Although I’ve never fully understood that. What I do is read the story until I get to a fevered pitch, and then put the book down and replay scenes from it in my head whilst I masturbate. I don’t have enough hands to hold the book up, at the same time, and it would be awkward, anyway, which is not something I particularly desire at that very moment!)

While I was looking up my old favorites online, I discovered this one, and am ordering it right away — I had never heard of it before, and I’m so excited just by the title alone: Tales of Fun and Flagellation!

I did this shoot last year, when all of a sudden, I had a whole lot of models to shoot and had to think of something to do with them (oh, poor me, what a terrible life!) I thought, “Where would you find a bunch of hot women together?” and, my mind being what it is, “A brothel,” was the first thing that came into my mind. That thought was soon followed by remembering the amazing images of the Storyville “ladies of the night” by John Ernest Joseph Bellocq.

Here are two from the series, that I thought you lot would especially enjoy. In this first image, we see a number of naughty girls cheating at their card game (and of course, they are gambling and drinking the demon liquor, to add to spankable offenses, should a gentleman feel so inclined….)

In this next shot, one of the recalcitrants (you may remember she was taking a shot as cover for peeking at her neighbor’s cards) is now being brought to justice. It would seem the gal who was offended against is enjoying the prospect — and her bottom…!

One of the most common search terms for finding this blog is “spanked victorian maid.”

Sadly, I don’t (yet) have much content to provide those searchers (although a search on my site under “victorian” does yield some fun stuff!)

However, Lupus Spanking comes to the rescue, as always. Here’s a lovely shot from their video, “The Glamour of old times”

Victorian Maid Spanked - click for more images

What Lupus has to say about the movie:

Lupus Pictures brings a completely unique project to the market – a new dimension of spanking movies. First of all, the movie is a detailed study of D/s relationships, and this is completed by a truly sensitive cinematization. The authors used demanding retro style, complete with the set, lights, original costumes, masking and acting style.

The story unfolds in an old Victorian house. The plot is simple, but gives ample room to precise expression of the atmosphere. There are two female actors – a Lady and a servant. The Lady punishes the servant for a minor fault using a very uncommon method. She forces her to assume an awkward position and cruelly punishes her with a cat-o-nine. The poor girls stands several hundred (!!!) lashes and although her strict upbringing commands her to stand the punishment without a word and with dignity, she finally breaks in the end. Tears appear in the corners of her beautiful eyes and sighs and gasps escape her lips. After the lashing is over, there is a time for the servant to express her gratitude for fair punishment. The girl can kiss the relentless and cruel hand for a short moment…

The Lady is avatar of female dominance – cruel and relentless. Although there is not a word spoken in the movie, everyone will feel the intensity of the haze with which the Lady controls the environment. It is hard to resist her dominance, hard to oppose her will…

This is why I love Lupus-Spanking.com so much!

Also, to add an amusing footnote, the wonderful Adele Haze links to a video with a Victorian maid being disciplined!

[N.B. — the link on Adele’s page seems not to be working, here’s one that is:
In The Shadows by The Rasmus, with Victorian Maid spanked

What a wonderful weekend I’ve had! Play every day! But let me start with Friday night….

Our local dungeon was having a Victorian theme night. Since this is a serious fetish for me, my Master indulged me by agreeing to go (and dress up in a kilt for me! Phwoar!)

So in the evening, I took a bath and shaved off any undesired body hair (that being most of it!) and did my make-up, and got into as much of my period Victorian dress as possible on my own. Which wasn’t much: the chemise, corset (un-tightened), real silk stockings, and boots! When my Master got home, he tightened the corset (the man gets way too much delight from tight-lacing!), put on the petticoat, bustle pad, and then the skirt and bustle, and then finally the beautiful jacket.

For me, getting into this outfit is part of the foreplay, as the authentic period layers are put on me, I can feel myself sinking back in time, to be that modest Victorian lady who didn’t even want to expose her ankles (although half her bust was just fine!), who was helpless and submissive, who lived first under the command of her father, and then her husband. My favorite fantasies are of my skirts getting flipped up, and my virginal self being beaten and then “used vilely.”
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Ever wondered what our great grandparents got up to behind closed doors? A new collection of erotica leaves little doubt, says Guy Kennaway

‘I bought my first erotic photograph in the mid-1980s,’ Danny Moynihan tells me. ‘I had come across some photos of Austrian origin of rather portly looking ladies in petticoats playing with sex toys. I thought they were rather amusing.’

Moynihan is an artist and a curator. He has collaborated frequently with his friend Damien Hirst and has written a novel – soon to be released as a film – satirising the art world. He is also the owner of one of the world’s largest collections of vintage erotica.

‘At the time I was buying and selling 20th-century photographs with the art dealer Paul Kasmin,’ he explains. ‘In those days photos didn’t really exceed $5,000, though we did own a Violin d’Ingres by Man Ray which we sold to the Getty for $10,000, but that was an exceptional piece.’

So presumably, were the dozen or so pictures that started Moynihan’s collection of nearly 500 often explicit photographs, many of which decorate the walls of his Chelsea home, where I have come to meet him.

‘I think the Austrian photos were a few hundred dollars altogether,’ he says. ‘I got them from a German in New York, who just happened to have them on him at the time. I showed them to a few friends and enjoyed their reaction of shock, surprise and delight.’

It is no longer only Moynihan’s friends who will be surprised, possibly delighted, by the photographs. Nearly a third of his collection has been reproduced in a substantial coffee-table book being brought out by the art publisher Other Criteria. He puts it onto the table between us and gives the lady on the front a pat. ‘Not long after my first purchase I found these photos by Felix Moulin of Manet’s model for Olympia. Moulin had a way of photographing women that made them erotic but not pornographic. They were rather more expensive but it set me thinking about making a collection of erotic photos.’

The model lying naked on the couch is unquestionably the sublime woman in the iconic painting, whose body is instantly recognisable to all connoisseurs of fine art. ‘Manet worked a lot from photographs, rather than live models,’ Moynihan explains.’It’s well documented. If you look at his pictures you can see they are unmistakably photographic.’

Moynihan would certainly object to his collection being described as filth. Instead, he divides it into five categories including ‘the sensual nude, ethnographic tribal nudes, medical photos, posed studio tableaux and straight pornography’. Quite a lot seems to have changed in the world of pornography since these photographs were taken. The invention of the ladies’ razor, for one. Most of the women have their (often wrinkled) stockings on, the men their socks. This might have been considered saucy, intended to represent the haste of the liaisons, or it may simply have been cold in the photographers’ studios.

Moynihan taps the book again. ‘I adore this one, early 1850s woman, but you can hardly notice the pussy.’ I raise my eyebrows. Then I notice there’s a kitten in the folds of her pulled-up can-can dress.

‘The most I have paid for one is $5,000 – when the dollar was a dollar and not a rupee’ – he adds urbanely. ‘I think it was three or four years ago. As time went on I became more discerning, and could see when something really good came up.’

We go past a couple of photographs of a cupboard full of what was then shameful police evidence of sexual perversion but would now not look out of place in an Ann Summers shop window. Another shows a man eating a meal off a tray and prodding the generous buttock of a woman with his fork.

‘A lot of these pictures were photographed by a Frenchman called Monsieur X,’ says Moynihan. ‘His whole collection came up for sale in the Forties, when he died. Nobody was allowed to know his real name. The auctioneers in Paris were bound by the terms of his will to silence. Some people even today have their suspicions, but nothing is known for certain about him. He was obviously an amateur.’

I stare at the shot of a woman on her elbow wearing a revealing pair of knickers with slack elastic. ‘Very personalised,’ he adds softly, ‘note the grainy quality. She’s unorchestrated, unposed; you sense it was all done for himself, whoever Monsieur X was.’

Is there lots of competition between collectors? ‘There are a few collectors. I know they exist – but I don’t want to know them,’ he says. ‘To be part of a tribe of porn collectors would be rather seedy. It’s a curiosity, not an endeavour. If I come across them I get them.’

It’s Moynihan’s personality that gives Private Collection its charm. He doesn’t take the book or the subject of erotica very seriously. Perhaps this is because he has so many other things going on: at 48, he is a happily married father of two, has written the screenplay for the forthcoming film of his novel, Boogie Woogie, throws parties full of famous names and faces, has houses here and there, and an ever changing collection of art.

‘I love this one,’ he says, drawing my attention to yet another photo. ‘Great background.’ His finger alights, rather incongruously, given the content of the rest of the picture, on a bedspread. ‘Look at that textile,’ he coos, ‘isn’t it beautiful? And the wallpaper in this one,’ he says, ignoring the cavorting ladies and gentlemen on the bed and tapping the wall behind an upturned Victorian buttock. ‘William Morris,’ he says, ‘an amazing, early Edwardian interior.’

Has he ever bought contemporary pornography? ‘No, no, no, no,’ he answers, distaste at the very thought flitting across his face. How old does a photograph have to be to get into his collection? ‘Recently, 1930s,’ he says, ‘though I am getting more and more into the 1950s and 1960s stuff. It’s so posed, so of the period.’

I ask whether he has ever thought of taking erotic photographs himself. A faint smile appears on his inscrutable face. ‘I’ve never had a stab,’ he says. ‘Maybe I should. I am coming to the age when that kind of thing crosses the mind.’

Private Collection: A History of Erotic Photography (1850-1940) is published by Other Criteria.

Article from Telegraph.co.uk | Hat tip to Thomas Roche