Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Pixiepie’s Master responded to an unintentional challenge from Pixie in her blog today. It was so hot — it doesn’t matter if you are into what he was writing about (nails and razors and real brutality) because what was the most hot was simply being allowed to go with him on the journey to his darkest desires. And the final paragraph darn near made me melt, so I can’t imagine what it did for Pixie!

I’ve had a lot of fantasies about my Master really delving in to his dark side. Actually, these days, most of my fantasies are about that. I want him to tie me down on the bed or chair, and then put the penis gag and spandex hood on me (to muffle my screams as much as possible) and then just let go … let his sadist side loose.

I know how much he holds himself in control. And he is so careful with me … he can hurt me a lot, he can cause some serious bruising on my bottom and thighs … but he still has to hold himself back, he’s never able to just do whatever he wants.

But in my fantasies (and hopefully someday in real life!) he just immobilizes me, and gets to use my body as whim and fancy take him. My fantasies include a number of things, like the tawse being used on me over and over and over, with no time for recovery, just me drowning in a sea of pure pain.

In my own head, I really am quite cruel to myself! One idea I’ve had was that, when bent over the chair, he puts the clover clamps on me, running the chain through a rung between the chair legs. Then, whenever I jerk up from the pain of the beating, the clamps will tighten that much more, punishing me for moving out of position.

(They say that masochists make the cruelest sadists. I can totally see that! I wouldn’t want me to top me, that’s for sure!)

As I masturbate, thinking about these things, I throw in random details of his cruelty to me. Maybe warm me up, literally, with ginger up my bottom, and then start the beating? Or perhaps fucking my pussy or ass until it’s sore, and after he’s come and I think the pain is over, he grabs a large dildo and starts slamming it into me (the only lube being his come inside me!), while I cry and try to beg him to stop through the gag.

Or maybe he would use one of the toys I despise. The heavy black cane, perhaps, or other toys I’d generally prefer that he forget he owns! Maybe he would get out that toy, one of the ones that I’m at my pain-limit after about three strokes, and beat me until his arm is too tired to go on.

And he talks to me, in my fantasies, as he does this. He tells me I am helpless, that he is going to hurt me terribly and there is nothing I can do but scream. That he is going to use my body however he wants, and that my screams and sobs will only be the icing on the cake.

It always ends in anal sex, of course, because what else can make me feel so helpless and and reduced to being a thing-that-is-used so fast. Unless of course he has something painful in my bottom, in which case he’ll fuck me … slow if it’s ginger, so that the pleasure won’t overwhelm the pain, or fast if it’s some huge butt-plug so that it is also slammed painfully deeper into me at the same time as his cock.

You know … all of these thoughts has me pretty worked up! I think I’m going to spend some quality time with Mr. Buzzy….

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