Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

She writes:

There are times when I “play up” the difficulty of a task or a chore, or sob more than is warranted during a pain session. Which isn’t to say that I cry because I have to do dishes or sob hysterically when he swats me on the ass. I at least keep it somewhat appropriate to the current activity.

But I know, deep down inside, that it’s not as bad as I’m making it out to be. I know I’m overreacting. (not always, though. Sometimes he really is a mean old bastard and my hysterics are entirely warranted!) [...] Until he gets the sobbing, screaming slavegirl he’s after.
Is it dishonesty? It’s not like I’m “acting” and winning an Academy Award here. I’m just.. exaggerating perhaps. But why? Fear? Afraid of how bad it really could get? Trying to steer? Am I doing it when I’m just not in the mood for extreme so I pretend I’m already at extreme so he doesn’t take me there?

The rest of this post started as my comment to her, but I eventually realised it was becoming too long to just be a simple comment, so I’m continuing the thoughts over here:

I also am guilty of hysterics, sometimes. If he doesn’t give me recovery time in between strokes (that is, enough time to ride the crest of the last wave of pain) then I will tend to start sobbing and otherwise making a lot more noise.

I like to think that at that point I can’t help it. I’m overwhelmed with pain I can’t process, so how can I be in control of my blubbering?

I used to think that when we got to that point, we were bumping up against my limits.

But now, three years into being fully a masochist, I’ve come to realize that just because I’m crying like a baby doesn’t mean I want him to stop. I might be overwhelmed with pain, and scared in that very primal way that you get when something starts hurting hurting hurting make it stop now!, but just because my lizzard-brain is freaking out doesn’t mean the rest of me wants to stop.

I don’t think I’ve been really able to tell him that. I can still feel quite shy about my masochistic needs, and it’s hard for me to tell him what I’d like to try, because I still don’t really understand it very well.

But I would like for him to take me to the completely out-of-control place, and then keep hurting me. This is going to have to involve bondage, as I can’t, at that point, hold still and take the strokes properly! It’s probably also going to require a very efficient gag, because we do have neighbors in this apt. building! (Who are, overall, very generous about the funny noises that come from our apt., and who still smile at us in the hallway and make small talk when we all end up in the elevator together, and never bring up the fact that they hear “Please put it in me, Daddy!” or “Yes, Master, I’m your slave!” or other less coherent screaming coming from our apt. at random hours!)

In my fantasies (always a dangerous place, as kaya knows from when her Master listens in to her fantasies while she gets off!) he’ll put the penis gag in my mouth, and then put a hood over my head, so he can de-personalise me, and just use my body to beat for his pleasure, not caring if I am okay, really letting his sadistic side have free reign.

Of course, the only reason I can want this is because he is always in such control of himself, and because he tends to err on the side of caution. What is it with us masochists that always makes us want to push our limits even more than our Tops do?!

I’ve asked him about how his sadism works. Two things have really stuck with me.

One was that one of the things that really turns him on is when, after he’s given me a stroke of the cane (or what-have-you), seeing me raise my bottom back up into position for another stroke. That moment, of not really wanting it, but being utterly obediant to his wishes, to the point of putting myself back into a position I probably don’t like, to take another stroke from his cane, that I know will hurt like hell.

I get that! In fact, I get it so much that now I appreciate those moments more when they happen. (Well, up to a certain point. Then I just grit my teeth and get on with it!)

But that’s not what I’m feeling the need for, here. Because that involves me staying in a certain amount of control over myself. And I really want to be taken to a place where I’ve lost every shred of control I’ve ever learned since being born. (Except maybe control of my bowls. That’s just not sexy, for me or for him! It’s esp. unappealing to me, as I know I’d be the one to clean it up!)

The other thing he’s said that really stayed with me is that sometimes he is deeply involved in what I’m feeling (see the above example), knowing how much pain I’m in, and working to create the right amount. But there are other times when he just wants to beat me, with no thoughts for me or what I’m going through, but just enjoying the pleasure of beating someone, hurting someone.

And that’s the part I want to explore more with him.

He really loves me and cherishes me. He is a perfect Daddy — spoiling me, buying me treats. The other day I dressed up in a schoolgirl uniform and he took me to see “The Waterhorse” (a kid’s movie about a very cute Loch Ness monster) and he treated me like his little princess.

And I love that! But I sometimes get concerned that the Daddy side of him, the care-taker side of him, will overwhelm his sadistic side. Sometimes, after he’s beaten me to the point of tears, I don’t want to be tenderly gathered into his arms, with him lovingly telling me what a good girl I am, while he wipes away my tears. (Although I’m not complaining about that — it’s also very hot!) But sometimes, I want him to beat me to the point of tears, and then coldly tell me that because I can’t control myself, he’s going to tie me down and teach me what a real beating is. I want him to let go of the love he has for me, and just be a sadist in full control of someone who won’t say no (esp. now that she’s gagged and bound and helpless!)

He does “cruel” really well. His eyes get cold, and his voice gets stern and distant, like he’s miles above me. And that’s when I get really scared, and will tend to give in to hysteria, because he’s really terrifying when he’s like that!

But even though I can’t help but give into hysteria, that doesn’t mean I want my hysterics to work! I guess it comes down to freedom — I want the freedom to scream and gasp through the tears and snot running down my face, the freedom to not really want what is happening, but to know it will happen anyway, no matter how much noise I make or pathetic looks I give him.

And I want freedom for him — I really want to give him that. The freedom not to worry about whether he is doing right or wrong, but just do what feels good. The freedom to give in, at least a bit, to the evil sadistic bastard I’ve seen hiding within him. He spends so much of his life in control: at work, not biting off the heads of idiots, fixing other people’s stupid mistakes for them; in public, curbing his wicked tongue so as not to offend people, trying to suffer fools long enough to get through the interaction in the store/post office/bank/etc.; and at home, always being the Master to me, always in control of me and the household.

I really want to give him some moments of not having to control a part of himself that he keeps tightly in check. It’s not that he’s not a kind, generous man — because he is one of the kindest and most generous people I’ve ever met (and that’s saying something, because I’ve got some great people in my life). But he doesn’t have to really control those aspects of himself. The sadistic part, however, he’s had to keep checked almost all the time. When he was younger, he denied that part of himself. And then for years, he mostly just had non-relationship play-partners, and you can’t really go as far with them as with someone you’ve really gotten to know and trust.

He told me the other day that he has never had a relationship like the one he has with me. (And if you think I didn’t melt into a gooey puddle of happiness, you don’t know me at all!) And because we have that, I want to be the one to give him that freedom, to let him be all of himself, to take all of what he has to give.

Masochism is an amazing thing. To do this play I’ve been talking about, it would simultaneously give both him and myself a new level of freedom. How astounding is that, when you think about it?! It’s amazingly complex and beautiful! And I still don’t understand it all — but I can’t help but be awed by even the basic levels I am starting to grasp.

Related posts:

1. Trying to understand my need for punishment…
2. Cum slut (or, blow-job slave girl)
3. Figging fantasies (anal discipline, cane, tawse, spanking)
4. Punishment and play
5. Caning, breath-play, anal, spanking, golden showers…

This entry was posted on Thursday, May 1st, 2008 at 12:01 pm and is filed under BDSM, M/s, bondage, fantasies, gag, kink, slave thoughts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.