Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Posts Tagged ‘anal’

Tomorrow Papa Otter and I leave for Shadow Lane. I’m so excited to see so many of my friends again, and to spend a weekend in the company of myriad pervs (it’s been too long!)

As if to spur me on, last night I had the most erotic dream I think I’ve ever had….

I was at this all girl’s school … except that the girl’s uniforms seemed to be bikinis. They were all quite well-built – curves everywhere! – and it was a bit like a music video or Serpieri’s Druuna books! with all these scantily clad hotties walking up and down the halls and stairs of the school.

I myself, in good dream fashion, was naked. But not the least embarrassed – indeed, in the dream, I felt this delicious sensuality, this sexy confidence. I sashayed as if I was moving through honey.

I kept ended up making out with and otherwise pleasing these girls – sometimes just one, sometimes more! – and this was a perfectly wonderful state that could have completed the dream to my perfect satisfaction.

But there was more! I kept getting taken aside by (male) teachers who were finding quite obvious excuses to punish me – I was “distracting” the girls, I was causing a disturbance in class, I was interrupting their studies, you know the drill – and then the teachers used a variety of implements on me. In the dream, I knew that this hurt, but every stroke was like those rare strokes where pain meets pleasure just right, and you can’t tell the difference. I was crying from the pain out in these sensual moans.

The most clear part of the dream I remember now is that I was being punished by a teacher, who’d put a butt-plug in me, and had beaten me with a strap. I then met up with a few delicious girls who were really turned on by my state, and who needed to kiss, caress, and finger-fuck me. (Even in my dreams, I’m always a giver – didn’t want to let these young ladies down, so allowed them to do as they willed with me, whilst keeping my hands and mouth as busy as possible. See, always a giver!)

We got interrupted by the headmaster, who then felt the need to punish me for this further disruption. (And not my fault, I’d add! They seduced me!) He caned me, and then pulled the butt-plug out – I remember moaning, in the dream, and him saying, “Do you feel all empty now?” He then said, “This will fill you up!” and thrust his cock into me.

Sadly, it was after this promising start that I woke up.

Oh, how I wish you could just pause your dreams and then resume them when next going to sleep. I’d go back to this dream in a heartbeat!

So, who knows, maybe this is what Shadow Lane will be like for me…? At any rate, if I wasn’t entirely rarin’ to go before, I surely am now!

I’ll try to blog or at least tweet from SL, but if it’s anything like that dream, then you should really just expect a report after I get back!

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From: New Scientist!

Spanking is stressful at first, but it could bring consenting couples closer together. That’s the implication of two studies of hormonal changes associated with sadomasochistic (S&M) activities including spanking, bondage and flogging.

Brad Sagarin at Northern Illinois University in DeKalb and colleagues measured levels of the stress hormone cortisol in 13 men and women at an S&M party in Arizona, before, during and after participating in activities. During S&M scenes, cortisol rose significantly in those receiving stimulation, but dropped back to normal within 40 minutes if the scene went well. There was no change in those inflicting the activity.

At an S&M event in Colorado, testosterone was measured in 45 men and women. It increased significantly in receiving women only. Donatella Marazziti of the University of Pisa, Italy, says the boost may help women cope with the aggressive nature of S&M activities, or that it could be another sign of stress. In both studies, couples who said the party went well also reported increases in relationship closeness (Archives of Sexual Behavior, DOI: 10.1007/s10508-008-9374-5).

It’s important to note that levels of both hormones dropped back down in couples who enjoyed the experience, Marazziti says. “When sexual intercourse is consensual it is not stressful – even if it is extreme sex.”

Heh — for me, I don’t think my stress levels go up when the spanking starts at all — I’m just too happy about it! Of course, if it’s actual punishment, that’s another matter … but the study didn’t go into such detail!

Maybe we should do our own study! We in the spankosphere could start S.P.A.N.K. (the Society of Professional and Notable Kinksters, perhaps, although I’m sure one of you could come up with some better words to fill that acronym, this was just off the top of my head!) and do scientific studies of all sorts of aspects of spanking and CP. We could have the S.P.A.N.K. Institute (classically I think these things are supposed to be in Switzerland, but my vote is for either the UK or somewhere tropical!) and we could call upon the world’s finest scientists (if you go with my theory that all scientists are perverts, then this makes it easy to assume they’ll all want to join us!) and then have spankers and spankees coming in for trials and studies.

Can’t you see it … white hallways with white-lab-coated spankologists walking looking at clipboards (or, better yet, Star Trek PADDs!), passing rooms, where looking in the windows on the doors, you can see girls bent over various white furniture items (a bed, a desk, a chair, even white and sterile medieval torture pieces) with wires hooked up to their heads and bodies, with scientists standing around taking notes as the spanker lines up another hit … or the “psychology” labs which have perfect sets (schoolroom, headmaster’s office, reformatory dormitory) where spankees and spankers interact while scientists monitor from one-way mirrors … there can be a sleep lab for seeing if people sleep better after a spanking … and a gymnasium for exercise-based CP studies … and I picture two dining areas: one where the spankees can whisper to each other about what the tests are like, and what might be happening to them next, and a lounge for the spankers and scientists to chat over meals about new tests and ideas for improving results….

I think I may have to visit this fantasy with some regularity!

(There always has to be anal play in any medical scenario, don’t you think?!)

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Kink.com has done us gals an invaluable service. They are making a series of “How to give a blow job” videos.

Of course, they have also done a favour for anyone who likes looking at girls giving blowjobs. Especially girls as delicious as Bobbi Starr, upon whom I now have a tremendous crush…

I mean, hello? Phwoar!

Well, that’s just a perfect body, huh?

I looked for a view of her bottom getting caned, as I know you lot, and that’s what you want to see! (Never mind that’s also what I like to see it…!)

[See Bobbi Star get caned on Kink On Demand]

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I’m feeling a bit under the weather today, but it was worth it for the fever-inspired dream last night!

My Uncle was disciplining me, and he demanded I put on my old school uniform for it. I refused, saying it was embarrassing and I was too old to have to wear the ugly outfit. The knickers, I complained, were uncomfortable and ugly – as was the skirt, and the shirt was scratchy and the blazer shapeless and unflattering. I’m sure I had complaints about my socks, shoes, and tie, too!

For each piece of the uniform that I refused to put on, he strapped me until I complied. This process took a while, as I was very recalcitrant, and had to be strapped to tears each time.

Once I was finally dressed and resigned, I was surprised and dismayed to discover that the discipline was yet to come – now I was to be caned (with my blazer and skirt pulled up, and my knickers pulled down – but all still on!) and it was implied that after he’d finished caning me into a sobbing mess, he’d be roughly fucking my ass (to further demonstrate his authority, of course, and anyway, in my universe, that’s just what Uncles do!)

When I woke up I told my Master all about it. I hope we make that dream come true this weekend…!

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Well,
to continue with the caning … I was still quaking in my spandex after the last series of Six-O-The-Bests, but the final twelve were yet to come. This was back to the Senior cane, which would have seemed like a walk in the park after the last cane (the bamboo root one!), but there was not much real estate left on my bottom that wasn’t hot and weal-ed. So the cane strokes either came down on the already well-battered skin on my bottom, or on my thighs, which were not very marked, but which always hurt so much more!

By the end of that I was squealing and blindly trying to swim away through the air. It always amazes me that his fingers resting ever-so-lightly on my back keep me firmly in place no matter what the level of pain.

Then – my reward! Yes, if you’re thinking, “Alright, this is Zille, so she means ‘anal sex’,” you’d be right! I’ve been begging him for cruel anal sex: just using me for his own pleasure, whilst I whimper in pain (or at least varying levels of discomfort!) and I think it’s been hard for him to entirely be sanguine with it. When he fucks me, he wants me to go soaring into pleasure with him – and, mind you, I appreciate the sentiment! It is the irony of the universe that so many guys are careless lovers who “just take,” and I fantasize about that, while having a caring and involved lover, to whom my pleasure matters deeply.

Of course, if he wasn’t that person, I couldn’t trust him with the sort of play we do. How deeply ironical that it’s only because I know he is not truly like that, that I can long for him to be, and beg him to pretend to be!

But, because he does care about my satisfaction, he betook himself to use me roughly and get as much pleasure from it as possible. I know, some of you are thinking, “Oh, poor guy gets the world’s smallest violin from me!” but the fact of the matter is that when he’s fucking me and I’m screaming in pleasure, he can just let go and enjoy it 100%. When he is forcing his cock into my ass and I’m whimpering in pain, he has to pay attention to what he is doing, so he doesn’t injure me – and that is a distraction, he cannot let go 100%. (Of course, being me, I think a solution for this is that he practice a whole lot, and then it can become second nature and he won’t have to think about it anymore!)

Anyway, it was a period of wonderfulness. As he pushed into me, some inner masochist part of me sighed, “Oh, now this is pain I can really get into!” I revelled in the pain like a pig in mud, begging him sotto voce, “Please … use me … please … enjoy this fully … please … hurt me….”
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