Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Back in my post “Subconcious Slavery” post, Karl asked me:

Zille, did you always have this longing to belong to someone else as a 24/7 slave or was there some sort of process you went through in coming to this realization about yourself?

An excellent question, and I’ve been putting off answering it because the reply is going to take so long!

I never really had a longing to be a 24/7 slave before meeting Mr Defeu.

Let me qualify this.

When I was just a wee little thing, I had fantasies about being spanked and about being held by huge hands (my fantasy characters, the “spanking monsters” were giants, you see). So I clearly wanted to be controlled. But I’ve always been a very dominant personality. Outside of my fantasies, I was quite sure, as a child, that I ruled the universe.

When I was about 12, I disavowed my kinky self, and tried to be vanilla for some years. Obviously, this didn’t work very well, because by about age 15, friends were giving me Exit to Eden and Venus in Furs as gifts. I was like that gay kid whose entire family and friends know he is gay, but he’s not willing to admit it, yet!

The thing that really let me realize I was kinky was Pat Califia’s Macho Sluts, as I’ve said before. Thus followed a time of serious exploration. I knew I wanted to be a bottom and a masochist — but I had no idea how to go about being a submissive (nevermind a slave!)

I got into my first BDSM relationship with A., when we were both in college. A. was supposed to be the Top. But she was only a year older than I was, even less experienced in BDSM, and she was at best a switch and probably would have prefered to be the bottom in the relationship.

I basically topped from the bottom for the seven years we were together. After we broke up, friends told me how funny they thought it was that we were supposed to be one way, on the outside, but we really were the exact opposite.

I had pretty much given up on the 24/7 dynamic as an option by this point. I thought it was impossible to do in the real world, it was only good for fantasies and roleplay scenes.

Then I started seeing the man who would become Mr Defeu. Things moved really fast, and by the end of our first proper date, he had told me I could call him “Master.” (Please note that I do not encourage this sort of thing! He and I had known each other for five years, but still, it was very silly of us and we are very lucky it didn’t backfire!)

So he was Master. But what was I? At the beginning, he just called me, “girl.” That was my only title. He told me he wanted to work up to me being his slave. I was not comfortable with that. I told him I didn’t want to be a slave. Why couldn’t I stay being his girl? Or what about some other title?

No, he was adamant, he wanted a slave. And I could be the slave he wanted … or, well, I guess if I had really resisted, we wouldn’t have stayed together. However, all I wanted in the world was to belong to him, so I pushed my comfort-zone aside (as one would throw off a down comforter!) and agreed to be his slave.

So, in some ways I always wanted to end up here, but in other ways it was the last thing on my mind.

I did always long for, from first memory, the masculine (I’ve said before and will say again, it didn’t have to be a man, per se, but it couldn’t have been a effeminate man or girly-girl) figure with strong hands to own me, control me, manipulate me with those big fingers.

And I love being in the M/s relationship we are in now. When I am allowed to be dominant I am often thoughtless and selfish. Being a slave means I must always strive not to put myself first. It makes a great improvement in me as a person!

And it’s a wonderful comfort. I pushed aside a comforter at the beginning of this relationship, but another, better one has replaced it. Every day, every minute, I belong to Mr Defeu. He is in charge. As much as I have to learn to let go of control, the reward is that I get to relax and not try to control things. Mr Defeu has taken the world off my shoulders, and controls what I do carry on my shoulders (like a yoke!)

Yoke - thestockroom.com

It was not hard realizing I need to belong to someone. It just made sense, once I started getting the chance to really live it. On a day-to-day basis, I find masochism and the whole corporal punishment thing far more challenging to figure out!

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