Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Archive for the ‘our story’ Category

Continued from Part I. I should warn you that this turned into a long and not particularly coherent ramble, with thoughts coming out faster then I could write them down, and so it doesn’t go in any well-mapped direction, nor come to a tidy conclusion….

Happy reminisces aside (and he’s given me plenty of lovely sensation-memories to contemplate in bed while he’s off on a business trip this week) the main reason I shared this scene was because it has really got me thinking about my long strange trip around the land of which Sacher-Masoch is king. (Or at least the guy who gave it its name!)

I’ve written before about how I was surprised as hell when I first got into BDSM and discovered that even though I’d been fantasizing about pain all my life, it actually hurt, and how that made me back off and explore submission and other kinky stuff, certain I was a failed masochist who could only dream but not live up to my own fantasies.

And, I’ve written how Mr Defeu and the Senior cane changed all that one amazing evening.

But that “voyage of discovery” wasn’t over, and I’m still very much learning about the intersection of pain and me.

Coming from the BDSM world, the spanko world confused me. In BDSM, masochists are out, proud, and boast of their masochistic depths – indeed, the most sought after thing is to be a “bottomless pit” which can take all the pain a Top dishes out – and preferably orgasm from it. (Of course, not many people are actually like this, and this ideal probably alienates many people as much as it did me!)

On the other hand, so many spankos claim to not enjoy pain at all. They suffer CP to get other rewards, they claim. This point of view helped me, when first arriving from the cult of the masochist (“Ah! It’s okay that pain hurts!”) However, it soon got in my way, because there are indeed times when a stroke hits just right, and I process it as pleasure. Or I get a spanking that amps things up slowly, just right yet again, and I can actually come from it, just like a real big masochist, mommy!

That’s what made me want to change the common-use (within the BDSM/spanko communities) definition of masochist, from “someone who enjoys pain” to “someone who gets something from pain” (which is what the dictionary definition is, anyway). Because I think most people who want to be spanked (or otherwise caned, whipped, strapped, or paddled) fall somewhere in-between the 0 of “I get nothing from being spanked” to the 10 of “I am a raging masochist who will come from being skinned alive”.

But this post is ranging too far in scope – I actually meant to just be talking about my own self-discoveries. Just as sexuality is fluid, so is masochism, it seems. (Although of course, for me, I don’t think there is any real division between my sexuality and my masochism.) Some days I just want the CP equivalent of love pats. Other days I crave my fundament being turned entirely black and blue….

But even more, as I learn more about myself, my own ability to take more and different kinds of pain expands.
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This is the “fun bit” of a two-part post. First I’ll recount a lovely scene Mr Defeu and I just did, and then tomorrow I’ll talk about some of the thoughts it has brought up for me. Dessert before dinner, for those of you who are just here for the spanking and kinky sex. But for those of you who want the “deep thoughts” part, the best is yet to come!

I was feeling a bit low on Saturday afternoon (despite some lovely first-thing-upon-waking-sex) and of course Mr Defeu knows the best way to perk me up: “I think there shall be a scene, this weekend,” he announced. “Oh, really?” I asked, suddenly buoyed up nicely. He nodded, and said nothing further, keeping his devious plans to himself.

Sunday morning rolled around, and as we cuddled in spoon-position after waking up, something else woke up, and poked me in lower right bum-cheek. “Aaaah,” I said, (always profound, me!) “Would you like me to go change into something more suitable?”

I was instructed to change into a vest (that’s a wife-beater, to American readers) and gym-cut knickers (which I took to mean short cotton-spandex shorts, not regulation knickers – and, as I wasn’t punished for wearing the wrong thing, must have made the right call!) and so, clad in a white vest, navy gym shorts, and two pony-tails (not just to be cute, but to keep my hair out of the way, as I had a feeling fellatio would factor into things somewhere, and also, getting a mouthful of hair during a beating, always after having been told not to move your arms, is both frustrating and embarrassing), I knocked on the bedroom door, and was curtly instructed to enter.

I was fighting a grin quite strongly at this point. I so very much wanted to be in role, but I was really just too happy that filthy perverted stuff was about to happen. I managed to have my face mostly under control by the time I got inside the door.

“Well, my girl,” he said in full disappointed “this will hurt me more than it hurts you” Authority Figure Mode, “What did I tell you about being too rowdy last night?”

Uh, I don’t know! – was my first thought, and not one I said outloud – I didn’t remember being particularly boisterous or unruly the night before. So I tried for an all-purpose defence: “Um, youthful high spirits?”

That justification was of course deemed quite beneath regard, and I was treated to a lecture on how I had quite ruined his evening, but he didn’t want to be imposed upon to have to punish me when he was trying to get some RnR, and so he would attend to me now.

I was lapping this right up of course, although I gave a token stab at self-defence and tying to talk my way out of what was coming to me. (You can’t very well say, “Yay! Yay! Lecture me more!”)

This worked so well that I ended up being pulled over his lap as he sat on the side of the bed, and him laying right into me with heavy, hard spanks.
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Mr Defeu is off on a trip again, and so when I found this old post it really resonated with me…. Originally posted on 6th Oct 2008.

Mr Defeu got home last Thursday night, and I promptly got sick. And then he had family-crisis stuff to deal with. So the best I could do as his girl was to have yummy food prepared for him, and surprise him with his desk all cleaned and neat and polished. (Most of the house was supposed to also be this way, but see above about the getting sick part, which threw the wrench in those plans!) I was scared that the weekend would go by with just dealing with family stuff. And also, when I get sick, he gets all in Daddy mode and wants to snuggle and pamper me.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I like being snuggled and pampered as much as the next girl, but when it means his Mean Scary Dominant Self gets turned off – then I’m a sad girl, because I live for our scenes. When he growls roughly at me to do something, my knees turn to jelly and other parts of my anatomy do fascinating things. When he gets all sweet and loving, it’s great … but well, it’s like flavours. I like to eat sweet stuff (oh yes I do indeed!) but I also crave rich, hearty, savoury flavours as well. Think of discipline and the various pains of spanking, caning, etc., as Boeuf Bourguignon, and your favourite sort of pizza, and spaghetti the way your mom made it, and creamy Potatoes Au Gratin, and sushi, and chicken satay and Tom Ka Gai, and a Monte Christo or Croque Monsieur or your favourite sandwich or burger, and, and, and … all your favourite savoury foods!

Happily, some of that yummy stuff was coming my way. He said he needed a nap, early Sunday evening, and I despaired. But then he saw I was upset and pointed out that after the nap, he would be refreshed…. He slept for about 45 minutes, and then I went in and joined him in the bed, and snuggled with him as he napped, and just enjoyed lying in bed with him, feeling his warmth and hearing his breathing, as I looked out of the window at the night-time city lights.

Eventually he stirred, and reached for my hand, and pulled it down to his cock, which was obviously wide awake and ready for action.

I laughed with delight, and said, “You should take lots of naps, Sir!”

Then I didn’t say anything for a while, because I was sucking his cock.

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Since everyone enjoyed the last Lost & Found, here’s one from one of the best Classic Spanking films (IMHO) which Mr Defeu gave to me to watch. It was a pleasure to dig this one out of the archives and relive the memories of watching it, back when I was living in Suburbia (October 10, 2005!) and officially dating Bear … and wildly in love with Mr Defeu, and not knowing yet that my life was about to drastically change…!

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I was missing you terribly this evening, Sir, and then I had the thought that what better way to show you that your girl is thinking of you than to do an assignment!

Since you made the CDs in no certain order, I’ve ended up watching them that way. So this evening, I randomly chose a disk, and then chose a title from the list that amused me: not “Lisa Will Be Caned,” or “Lisa Really Ought To Be Caned,” but that imperative “Must!”

Well, as you can guess, Sir, I just adored it. There was only one thing missing in a video full of CP and general Brit goodness! After reading Smash Hits on the swing-set, she wanted to go up to her room to watch Dr. Who! And he was reading Janus, hahaha!

And “Now, jut your bum out!” is just so much better as an order to stick out one’s ass than anything an American could possibly say! And I loved the selection that increased in severity: the hand, the paddle, the belt, and then the cane. And the having to stand in the corner while he watched what looked like a very odd show on the telly! The only thing that I missed and would have liked to see was him being a bit more rough with her: I mean, she was in trouble at school and she was indeed being impudent, well into the punishment! When she reached behind herself to protect her bottom from further punishment, he would just push her hand away impatiently and she would be free to do it again right away. I would have been more aroused to see his hand roughly grab her wrist and hold it up against her back. Although I did wryly appreciate that if her hands got in the way too much he’d just smack them instead, which seemed to work pretty efficiently, too.
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From deep, deep in the archives of the blog — August 10, 2005 to be precise! — I pull out to share with you lot one of the first things I wrote to Mr. Defeu — from before I had my very first caning! He had left me with two DVDs of Classic Spanking videos that I was to watch (this was, obviously, from before we were living together, and he was travelling constantly back then) and report on to him. Thinking about it, I never have finished watching all those videos — I think perhaps I really should finish that assignment, all these years later! What do you think?

And now for the Way-Back Machine….

My thoughts and emotions on A Private Punishment are going to be based on the memories that stuck best with me in the several days since I saw it, since this assignment was not given to me until after I had viewed the video.

First, I’ll go over the funny ones, to get them out of the way. I laughed aloud at the beginning when the guy threatened, “I’ll sack the lot of you.” That was great! And Angela’s hair alternately amazed and frightened me (not in the good erotic way we’ll see later in this report.) The most amusing moment was when he offered her the liniment, and I (I had obviously gotten rather engrossed in the film) cried out, “Don’t do it, Angela, it will make it sting worse!” The only thing that could beat this (errr, so to speak) was when they both moved in such a way that the liniment bottle was un-obscured for the first time in the film – and turned out not to be a prescription healing salve – but Johnson’s Baby Oil!

But, funny stuff aside, actually, now that I think back on the film I realize I remember many details (I was about to re-watch it to refresh my memory, but I have realized I do not need to – images, moments from the film are burned into my brain.)

The main things I enjoyed about the film were the punisher and Angela. I was impressed by both of them, for complimentary reasons. He was very deliberate, very calm and purposeful. He would leave his hand on her, to comfort her and let her know he was still in control, and that really made the video much more real and arousing.

Angela – honestly, I was just plain impressed with her. First she was a very realistic nurse. I thought her acting was stilted until a moment where he said, “Are you going to lay over my lap or do I have to force you,” and she just quietly said, “You will not force me,” and she was compliant and obedient to his will from that moment on. I had been hoping, “Make him force you!” because I always like to see the physical tussling, and the moments of fighting the punishment before the pain (or something else) makes the bottom finally give in and submit to her fate. But there was something so graceful about how Angela just submitted; as deliberately as he was taking control she was giving it up.

And of course, I am in totally awe of how Angela took her punishment. Well, for the spankings she couldn’t hide her smile – you could tell she liked them! And with the tawse you could see her sinking into “sub space.” But the most impressive – of course – was the caning. Oh, I hope to take a caning like she does, some day. I don’t know what I’ll do (the first time[s]) , but I imagine it will involve lots of noise and emotion. Angela simply – well, expelled the pain. You saw it go through her whole body and come out her mouth in a breath of release. She made noise, but it wasn’t too much noise – it was still deliberate, she was still in control of herself, even as she submitted to his will.
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