Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

January ended with a bang! No, not the crack of the paddle against my bottom (thank all the gods of spanking, and um, bottoms) but just in a happy, happy weekend that makes me look forward to February even more!

Saturday was just plain good. The early part of the day was spent lazing around. I gave myself a mani/pedi as my Master did stuff on the computer, we watched an episode of Gordon Ramsay’s The f Word (thanks Mr. Stagg for the tip!) and Skins – Vol. 1, and I continued my re-reading of Maia.

After tommy-toe-toasties we went to bed and my Master read me a story from Janus Magazine while we cuddled naked, and then held me and whispered about terrible things he’s going to do to me (involving me being tied down and tormented with stinging nettles!) while sticking his fingers into my disturbingly wet pussy (at least, I’m disturbed! I shouldn’t be so turned on by nettles! I’m so attuned to his desires now that whatever he wants to do to me gets me excited, no matter how much of a bad idea it might be to a sane and reasonable person!) and then I gave him a blow-job while he probably thought more about tormenting me with nettles (whatever it was, he came very hard, one of those orgasms that just goes on and on), and then we snuggled and felt very pleased and satisfied about the whole affair.

In the evening was a local absinthe party, and we were taken by Miss Maggie Mayhem. Before the party, we took her out for Thai food – a new place we hadn’t tried before and it was a big success. We spent a long time in the restaurant talking and flirting and enjoying good food and good company.

We stopped off at home so us girls could do final wardrobe adjustment and reapply lipstick, and ended up spending too much time there as well. This was a problem because poor Maggie, due to a scheduling matter entirely out of her hands, had another date that evening, who was meeting her at the absinthe party and spiriting her away to another shindig. Well, we made her quite late to the absinthe party, and I ended up keeping her even later since we had promised each other to kiss all each other’s lipstick off, and I wasn’t letting her go until she’d lived up to her end of the bargain!

Strangely, her date didn’t seem to mind Maggie and me doing some serious tongue-wresting, breast-rubbing, thigh-humping, standing by him in the middle of the roof (decorated with little lanterns on strings, with tables and chairs and heat-lamps). It was quite cold up there on the roof (and I wasn’t wearing much: black spandex leggings with my favourite high-heeled black ankle boots and a tight black sleeveless shirt with a sheer lace back — no bra or pants, of course!) but while I was making-out with Maggie, I really didn’t notice it at all!

Sadly, a sense of social fairness forced me to let Maggie go about her evening (I hadn’t had a chance to get drunk, yet, was the problem. If I’d been drunk, I wouldn’t have given a fig what anyone else — except my Master — wanted!

With Maggie gone, my Master and I wandered around the party, looking for something else to entertain us. When we wandered back to the small stage area, we found a band playing, and so settled down to listen to Vermillion Lies.

Then there were a couple gals doing burlesque from Hubba Hubba Review so we hooted and hollered as is good form at a burlesque show (or the gals will be upset you don’t find them sexy!)

In the meantime I was knocking back “Red Dabel” absinthe from the Czech Republic. It was very tasty and went down quite smoothly! And it was an absinthe that is best with the sugar cube flamed, so every time it was made for me I got to watch the blue fire melt the red-soaked sugar cube into the cup, before it was finally doused with the cold water…. Happily, I didn’t get annoyingly drunk, or say anything stupid. I just got very snugly with my Master, and gave him long lustful kisses whenever he turned his face my way.

I love living in this city! Sitting in the theatre, we were surrounded by fascinating people of every sort, and it could have been some bohemian gathering from any age (really, there were guys in top hats and opera coats and white gloves, and gals dressed in evening where from pretty much any decade—or century—they felt like!) There were people of every type of sexuality (there was a very nice trannie with her girlfriend sharing our table) and you were entirely free to be exactly who you were in that company. It was just so lovely and my Master and I had a very good time.

Strangely, I had a hang-over the next morning! Note to self: the next time you see a liqueur with a red devil on it, Just Say No! I wanted to just die and get it over with, but we had a brunch date with Mollena, and so I took a shower and let my Master drag me up a huge hill and down the other side to get to the restaurant that would actually save my life, by serving poached eggs and smoked salmon over brown rice with tamari. I now shall never fear a hang-over again, knowing the cure is just down the road (well, first up-up-up, and then down-down-down the road!).

We ended up having brunch with Mo for three and a half hours (!) discussing all sorts of kink and perversion (liberally salted with gossip and “whatever-happened-to…”), and then wandered to a grocery store for supplies, and then took a lovely, very scenic way home.

All in all it was a pretty low spanking weekend, but that was fine because my bottom is still a bit bruised and my Master does like to work on a “fresh canvas.” He leaves for a trip mid-week, and I hope we can at least get one spanking in before he goes…!

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