Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Well, this is supposed to be the third Shadowlane post – I know, I know! But the third post (mostly written) was overtaken by events – in this case, a whole bunch of work which had to be done, and then, what we in San Francisco refer to as “Leather Week” (the week that ends with the Folsom Street Fair on Sunday, filled with lectures, classes, parties, readings, munches, and other events) and of course, “The High Holy Day of Kink” itself.

You might say to yourself, “If Zille is as much out-of-the-dungeon-and-into-the-schoolroom as she claims, why does she keep going to these BDSM events?” It’s a fair question.
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The next day (more on the first day here) was Finishing School. I slept in as late as possible, and almost had the choice of skipping breakfast or being late. And Mrs. Darling would not approve of either of those things! (Mr. Defeu went down and ordered breakfast whilst I was still getting my stockings clipped onto my garter belt, so that once I was dressed I could rush down and scarf some food in a most unladylike hurry. And then do my lipstick in the elevator on the way up to the tenth floor … and a room to which I dreaded and longed to go!)

You may recall that Finishing School was pretty much one of the most exciting things I’ve done since, well, um, my whole life. When we found out that there would be a Finishing School at this Shadowlane, there was no doubt that we would be attending this year’s party! (After all, I flew to Scotland for the first one, so there was no way I could miss one so much closer to home!)

I arrived at the door to Northern Spanking’s suite, nervous as hell and quite sure that as soon as I walked in, all hell would indeed break loose, undoubtedly upon my ass. You see, as the only student who had attended the previous FS, I was “Head Girl”, even though I had only come in fourth in the class. Now I had attained dizzying heights … but because of how things work in that mini-universe, I knew it was my job to topple from them – and make it a good show on the way down!

I checked my skirt, that my shirt was tucked in neatly, and hoped to hell my seams were straight!

Mrs Darling was suitably nervous-making, with her comments about how I would receive double-punishments over my class-mates, but, as usual, Miss Hammond-Grant was utterly terrifying. She would wander over, whether I was doing anything remotely naughty or not (a few times when I was just thinking about what naughtiness I ought to get up to, next!) and would just get up into my personal space, and then stare down at me. It made one third of me desire to be nothing but well-behaved for the rest of my life, another third of me immediately start planning how best to get her to do that again, and the final third part of me really just wanted her to grab me by the ear and drag me into the next room. (What would we do there? Oh, well she would teach me not to get up to “unnatural acts” involving other young ladies through “Aversion therapy” [shudders deliciously] )
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(The results of Friday night at Shadowlane. See below for how those marks got there!)

For me, Shadowlane is about friends. It is also about spanking, but I’m afraid my account of the best spanking party in the U.S. is simply not going to be as exciting as some of the bottoms who spend the party going from lap to lap.

Not that there is anything wrong with that, of course – they are just in a different place from me. Some of them may not have spanking in their lives all the rest of the time, and this is their big weekend to play and get in experiences to keep them going for another dreary year. Or some are eager newbies, wanting to taste every experience, and taste it now. Or some other equally valid explanation. Whatever, if you want a scene report that is just the non-stop spankathon that can be one’s Shadowlane experience, go sort through other blog posts here.

A friend asked me what I was into (I was burbling excitedly to him about rope bondage at the time) and I think it bears a little explanation, since I’m always considering it and having new realisations, myself.
As many of you know, I started in the dungeon. I got into BDSM in college, having been handed Pat Califia’s Macho Sluts by a girl I really wanted to sleep with. (I did eventually sleep with her. And do kinky things with her. And make porn with her. We had a very useful friendship!) I joined the “Younger Generation” BDSM group, and spent my time learning the best sort of candles to use for wax play, how to properly coil rope for rope bondage, how to season a single-tail so it cracks best, and how to wrap someone in saran wrap and then make convenient slits and slide ice cubes in and make them scream and squirm. (Okay, that last bit came naturally!)

The dungeon is really a useful place. To this day, I can show you how best to set me on fire (very temporarily!) for the prettiness and adrenalin rush of it. But what it did not do was help me find my way to my “core kink”, as it were. I took classes on everything – it was sort of assumed you wanted to learn everything, from where to hit on someone’s bum, to how to get a fist up there as well! And I, caught up in the thrill of kinky excitement, just went along for the marvellous ride.

I think people were supposed to find their “thing” along the way. But, for many years, I just bounced around, trying everything at least once, “Jacqueline of all trades, mistress of none.”

A funny thing that came out of that is that, for the longest time, I just decided I was “not a masochist“. Pain turned out to hurt, you see, and without the drive of a core kink, it just really didn’t seem worth it. I had nothing to help me through the pain of a beating, so I just avoided them. The pains of rope bondage had a reward (the attention you get as you are tied and untied, the admiration you get for holding a hard bondage position, and usually pictures of yourself looking hot and sexy in the ropes.

I had decided that I only liked “thuddy” pain. (I think this was a way to get only nice safe floggers used on me, or some such.) Amusingly, a professional dominatrix friend then told me that if I didn’t like stingy pain, I wouldn’t ever enjoy a caning. And I have to seriously thank her for that! Because it meant that Mr Defeu was the first person to cane me. And being able to have that “cherry” for him to pop meant so terribly much to both of us!

Now that Mr Defeu has come up, it’s really time to leave the dungeon for the headmaster’s office. Because when he handed me a stack of Januses (Janii?) – in between the first time he spanked me and our first date! – that’s when my core kink came suddenly, completely into focus.
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Last night I had a really hot dream that I just have to share with you lot!

It took place where Mr Defeu works (or, rather, a slightly weird dream version thereof) and I had come into work with him that day.

There was a hot new girl working there. My sleeping brain combined things that it knew Mr Defeu and I are “into”, so the girl had long curly hair (for me!) and was wearing white jodhpurs (for him) and a green velvet blazer (for both of us – who doesn’t find a green velvet blazer hot?!) and the minute I saw her I thought Mr Defeu needed to see her, too!

She was flirting heavily with me, and asked her to wait and I went to get Mr Defeu. As we were coming back to her office (although it was more like a cubicle!) I was excitedly telling him all about her.

When we got there, he liked what he saw, and ordered us both to bend over the desk to be spanked. I didn’t think that was such a great idea, seeing as how we were in the workplace, but she bent over eagerly and I was not NOT going to join in the excitement.

Mr Defeu slapped her bottom – HARD! – and then slapped mine (equally hard!), then hers again, etc.

Sadly this bit of the dream did not go on for as long as I would have liked before the boss came running over, fired Mr Defeu and the new girl, and we were all escorted off the premises! But she seemed very happy to come with us….
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Jezebel.com’s article Students Protest School Dress Code With “Slutty Wednesday” caught my eye today, as it probably did for any of us spankos who love the schoolgirl uniform.

For me, it immediately brings to mind an infamous Lupus Spanking shoot, where they get ten schoolgirls lined up for heavy corporal punishment…

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