Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Posts Tagged ‘D/s’

I’ve been organizing the books in our apartment, as they are threatening to take over the place, and I found this gem among Papa Otter’s erotica collection.

The cover is more funny than arousing (to me, anyway) but what is lovely and even in it’s own way arousing is the innocence of the image. No worries about feminism, here, no angst about if spanking your wife is okay, no confusion about whether discipline should have sex involved (the author thinks it should, if you can’t tell by the spanker’s humongous erection!) — these are some happy ’60s swingers who explore their desires with an almost child-like innocence.

The book cheerfully merges domestic discipline with sex (and swinging, because once you find out the neighbours like spanking, too, the obvious next step is to spank and fuck the neighbour’s wife, non?) in a way that is very heartening for me, because Papa Otter and I find they mingle very well indeed, and I was very surprised when I came across the DD [Domestic Discipline] community and found out that I wasn’t supposed to want to mix those things!

My favourite example of this (and I really need to carry the URL for this site around with me, because when I tell people about it they just can’t believe me) is this fabulous article, Thanking the HOH — The “Formal Thank You” as a Non-Sexual Act. I don’t know how I found it, but once I realized what I’d come across, I had a reaction that combined all the best aspects of shooting my drink out my nose and punching the air and shouting, “Yes!”
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Ages and ages ago I wrote about a scene my Papa Otter and I did with Henry Higgens.

Well, he was not just kind enough to beat my ass to exotic new shades of black and blue, but he also shot am image of Papa Otter holding me afterwards. (I think he was grabbing my hair because I still had a bit of sass left in me, which I can only explain by assuming I have an inferior self-preservation instinct!)

I had planned to get the images up, but then they got misplaced (which is just as bad or worse when you’re dealing with bytes and pixels to loosing real world items). However, I just found the file they were in, and so here and now I finally get to share this image with you!
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This is a goooood week to be reading the kinky blogs, whether you’re a spanko or BDSM-player — even better if you’re both, like me!

On the Master/slave side of things, Kaya has put up what may be her bestest post to date (this is not easy — she’s so good, it’s hard for her to top herself. Errr, yes, in both meanings of “top!”) about the “reality” of modern Master/slave relationships.

[Slavery is] an illusion that only works because the two people involved believe in it enough to make it their own personal “reality”.

Nobody is really a slave, bound and held in the same manners that real-life slaves are. Nobody is owned. Nobody is property.

It’s mindgames and headfucks and brainwashing- and it works because we make it work. Because we’re dedicated to making it work and because we put equal effort into making it “real” for us. I am a slave, he is my owner and that’s how we live. That’s our reality, our day to day life and it’s how we choose to live.

But it isn’t real. None of y’all are. Stand in a police station one time and tell an officer that you’re an owned slave and your owner won’t let you leave. Face it, the only people believing in your “reality”, is the pair of you….

As Kaya so colourfully puts it, that observation “that went over like a fart in church.” Wander over to her blog to read the ensuing drama!

Over at Ye Olde Spanking Writers, the deeply intelligent and attractive Haron (me, be flirting with her? Why, um, yes, actually!) considers:

I’m not going to make anyone feel better if I say that, without taking on and processing different kinds of violence visited by one human being on another throughout history, we would be bereft of any settings for role-play. The stuff we feed on, from Roman slaves, via Victorian maids, to nearly modern schoolchildren, is in its core quite appalling.

How much of it you then make it yours, whether you decide to play with certain aspects of it at all, is then a sensitive individual choice….

(Of course, Haron’s not the only one doing awesome posts on the Spanking Writers this week. Abel put up this really amusing post yesterday!)

Meanwhile — because theory is all well in it’s way, but really, we’re all just here for the hot pr0n, right? — Adele Haze and Pandora have been getting up to no good, which is all to the good of us viewers, if not Pandora’s and Adele’s bottoms! I can’t wait for Roué to release the film!

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I was just whinging on my other blog, when events overtook me in a very ironic way. Thought you all would appreciate:

There’s a back story to this: some years ago, when we were still very intensely Master and slave — things having mellowed

——————————Amusing ironic cut——————————
Of course, just as I type the above, my Master called to me from the other room.

“Sweetie?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“I’d like help sleeping now.”

He meant, a pre-nap blow-job.

I immediately got up and gave him one — no thought of saying, “I’m writing a blog post — I’ll come and do it when I’m done!”

He may now call me “Sweetie,” instead of “Girl,” but some important things remain!

——————————End amusing ironic cut——————————

Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted [grins] — things having mellowed somewhat since then…

Hope you are all having good weekends! I’m off to try and improve ours!

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Well, you lot, I apologise for being away, but I’m afraid I have an excuse. I’ve written about it here, and all future writings about that topic will be over there, too.

No, I’m not being all cryptic. My Master was in a bad car accident, and I am going to be dealing with the ramifications of that both over here (how this will effect our M/s relationship, his “physio-therapy” of getting able to spank and cane me again, etc.) but all the non-kinky stuff I’ll be putting over there.

Happily, I have good and kinky news already. My Master got out of the hospital this past Thursday, and last night I was able to give him a blow-job and he was able to come. This is not a small thing, because he was catheterized for a while (sadly, not a fetish of his!) and that can interfere with all of the manly tubing. Also, I had to very carefully not bang into or put weight on anything broken, fractured, or bruised, so it involved some creative gymnastics on my part. (Yay yoga!)

Finally, it was a week to the day after his accident, and he has been through terrible shocks to his physical and mental systems, so it would not be weird or even a bad sign if he couldn’t come. Indeed, I told him it was a no-pressure blow-job, just me giving him some pleasure for a while, c’est tout.

That he trusted me enough with his newly fragile body not only to do it in the first place, but more so that he was able to relax and ignore his bodily pains and leg brace and bandages, is the kindest compliment a person can give. When he came in my mouth, I almost started crying — it was very intense for me: an honour and true gift.

Lying as best I could beside him, after, I started to sense how our new relationship would eventually turn out. Everything has changed, but our love is only stronger, and we will turn this scary change into growth.

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