Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

She could have thought of better things to do of a Saturday, but she was okay with visiting Uncle Duncan. After all, it had to be better than Daddy’s lectures, right?

Daddy said (over and over) that he was disappointed with her recent behaviour, and that she needed to go and stay with Uncle Duncan for the weekend. Whatever. She could wrap him around her little finger in no time, and then have the same fun on weekends as usual. Maybe she could get an even better set-up, actually. And since her uncle lived in another town, that was a whole new social scene to discover. New boys to meet. Yes, this could work very well….

She got the train, and walked over to Uncle Duncan’s house with her overnight bag. He was waiting for her in the living room.

She greeted him with cheerful casualness, but he didn’t reciprocate.

“I see you are in your uniform, as I requested.”

“Yeah, but Uncle Duncan, this sucks. It’s the weekend. I get to wear what I want on the weekends!”

“Not when you visit me. You, my girl, have not been living up to expectations. I’ve heard about your shameful behaviour from your father.”

“Yeah, Daddy’s been so cranky recently! But I know you’re not like that!”

“On the contrary, my girl, you shall find I’m even more like that. Your father has sent you to me because he finds he is to tender with you, his love for you gets in the way of the discipline you so obviously need. I will not have that problem.”

“Awww, com’on, Uncle! You don’t have to be like that! We could have some fun while I’m out here! Wouldn’t that be better?”

“You are not helping your case, young lady.”

This conversation went on like this for a while. She couldn’t quite believe that her uncle was being like this. This was so stupid. She told him so.

“I don’t like your attitude, miss. Get over the side of the sofa.” He got up to help her bend properly over the arm of the sofa.

“No! You can’t do that!” She fought against him.

“You’ll find I can.” He pushed her back down.

“But that’s not legal anymore! And I’ll tell Daddy!”

“Your father has asked me to discipline you as you so clearly deserve. I have his permission, indeed his implicit authorization, to do as I wish with you.” His large hands pushed her chest down into the cushions, and one hand grabbed her arm and pulled it up behind her back.

“Heyyyy! No! You’re a pervert! Get off me!”

“You are only making it all the more obvious, girl.” He flipped her grey skirt up, despite her protests. Instead of regulation knickers, he discovered a pair of shocking panties, skimpy cut, with a cut-out at the top of the back brazenly showing off where her bottom cheeks met.

“Well, my girl, that is certainly asking for my attentions!” He gave her some heavy-handed smacks on the poorly concealed area.

“It wasn’t for you to see! Let my skirt down now, and let me up!”

“I can see I’m going to have to teach you a lesson. Hold still.” His heavy hickory cane, deeply detested by more than one girl, was close to hand. He aimed at her squirming bottom, and the cane sliced against it. It would be her fault if she didn’t like how it landed.

“Yeeeow! Stop that! Let go!”

The can cut down again and again, and she screeched and writhed, showing her complete lack of discipline. Her foot came up to protect her bottom, since her arms were both trapped. He ordered her to move her foot, and when she didn’t, he let the cane come down, not too heavily, across it. It was heavily enough to impress her, as she nearly fell off the sofa. She screamed, but when he hauled her back up, and resumed caning her, her foot stayed down. After a few more strokes, he let her up.

“Now, put these on,” he instructed her, and handed her a pair of bottle green polyester knickers.

“Awww, noooo! They’re ugly! They’re uncomfortable!” she whined.

“Do you need me to help you?” He asked, cane in hand, and one look at his face, and she said, “No!” sullenly, and went over to the corner to change, a whole new modesty arising out of embarrassment and a beginning feeling of helplessness.

She pulled on the scratchy pants. The pinched terribly at her thighs. “See, they don’t even fit!” she announced, but he had no sympathy for her, just pulled her back over the sofa.

“But wait — I put the knickers on! You can’t do more—” He’d gotten another cane, lighter and stingier, and was using it on her again. The first volley of strokes had knocked the breath (and protest) out of her. He was flicking the cane down and down again, giving her no time to recover, only pausing long enough to line up the next stroke before the cane slashed down yet again.

The pain rushed through her. It was a burning that began in stripes along her bottom, but seemed to then pour up her spine into her brain.

Once he realized that she’d stopped fighting (beyond the inevitable writhing in pain), he slowed down the strokes, giving her time to catch her breath and yelp and squeal.

Then, a sudden CRACK, and a pause. She looked up, and saw a broken cane in his hand. Whatever swift moment of victory she felt washed away at the sight of him calmly picking up a new cane. “Well, girl, you’ve broken my property,” he said slowly, and we know what happens when you break something. You pay for it.” And to demonstrate this, the next cane stroke came whipping down, and another read weal burned down low, across the tops of her thighs. And then another.

He had her just where he wanted her, but gave her another long fast barrage of strokes to make sure, leaving her gasping and mewling, limp over the arm of the sofa.

She wasn’t aware of what was happening until he pulled her up. His cock was out of the front of his trousers, and she gasped at it, at the suddenness of seeing it.

“You have a choice,” he informed her gruffly, “Down on your knees, or we can have some more of this—” he swished the cane as example.

She was trapped. She knew “Neither,” was not an acceptable answer, but how to answer such an impossible question. And she knew she couldn’t drag her pause out for too long, or it might be both. Resignedly she sank to her knees. At least this was something she knew, it wouldn’t hurt, and she could make it be over quick.

But that was not to be. She used every trick she knew, but his breathing stayed even, and he showed no signs of being ready to finish.

When he hauled her back up and over the couch again, she wasn’t surprised, but she did put forth her best protest. “But, you said — oh, noooo!” For she felt the head of his cock press against her anus. “You can’t —!” she insisted, rallying.

“Oh, yes I can, my girl. Who will you tell? And who will believe you? Anyone you tell will assume you are lying — because you have been caught out lying before, haven’t you? — to get out of disciplinary sessions with me. No, girl, I’m afraid you’ll just have to take this —!”

And with “this,” he pushed himself into her. She gasped with the new sensation of pain, this one so intimate, so violating. She was still in shock from what had come before, and this new pain sapped the energy from her limbs. She moaned and cried as he used her bottom, but the will to fight was gone from her, and all she could do was sob as his cock moved relentlessly in and out of her bottom, pain blossoming with each stroke.

There was relief when she heard him gasp in pleasure, although it came with the knowledge that he was pouring himself inside her burning bottom.

He helped her up, and helped her pull her knickers up over the red, aching flesh.

“Well, girl, we’ve made a good start….”

And, on top of all this, later in the evening I was punished!

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