Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Posts Tagged ‘english vice’

Looking around for “spanked in girdle” on the net doesn’t yield much, I discovered today (when I should have been writing!) except for this amusing video (which lacks something in production value, but at least has nice lingerie!)

I’m finding the Mad Men theme of the upcoming Shadow Lane party very exciting. I have all my outer-wear taken care of. but I am a perfectionist and so I want all my unmentionables to be of the correct vintage as well! (And hey, who knows when your skirts will be flipped up at the party, and everyone in the room will be given a good view of your underclothes?!)

This is what I wish my Papa Otter would buy for me. Please leave a comment and tell him he should get these for me — if he buys any of them, I’ll post pictures here of me wearing them!

If you actually want to ensure me wearing these lovely items in a future photoshoot, you could always buy them for me yourself! Here they are in my wish list, which will send them directly to me!

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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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And the winner is…? Well, um, us!

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That question and more will be answered on Pain Olympics (sorry I can’t embed it!) Which I add to my list of proofs that Brits are all raging perverts — look what they do for fun!

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Well, I’ve been working on an entry for this blog since the 6th, and it just keeps growing and taking longer and longer to finish. So today I decided, what the hell, just get the blasted thing up here, and then you’ll have incentive to finish it because your readers will nag you until you do!

What this blog entry begins is our real start to playing with other people. I won’t count our beloved Miss Maggie Mayhem, not because she isn’t a real person, but because she made it so easy for us (thank you, dear Maggie, for spoiling us so!) that we didn’t really have to think about, and she brought none of the issues and concerns that poly (by this I mean a very wide definition of opening one’s relationship to include pretty much anything not included in standard definition monogamy, like spanking another person even though there is no sex) must bring up in any relationship (because if you don’t discuss these issues, they will make sure they end up a topic of conversation, albeit of the “break-up fight” kind!).

Events have moved so fast in the past several weeks that even a weekend (say, last weekend!) can drastically alter both the experiences I need to write about, and my thoughts that come up during the writing, so everything is going to be a little jumbled about for a while, while I start to process and get used to the wonderful new people and new joy in my life, in our lives.

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I’m sitting in a local café, right now, drinking my favourite drink (a chocolate-banana smoothie). Why am I here? Because my Master is at home, disciplining a young lady (Mystery Minx, whom, I may add, has more than earned the stripes that are certainly lining her botty already!)

This is the first time since we got together, that he has played with someone with me not there. For those who’ve been following along, Miss Maggie Mayhem was the first person we played with together (although not half enough!) and who gave us the safe space to successfully open up our relationship. (I cannot ever thank that darling girl enough – she has shared such great experiences with us, and made something that could be so fraught with pain and accidental hurt – that is, going from monogamous to polyamorous – into something so easy and joyous.)

Finally, now, I get a moment to write about our next step, which happened a few weekends ago. A certain Mr HH came to visit. Now, certain young ladies across the globe read that line with understanding (and perhaps wince and a phantom ache in their posteriors!)

HH had contacted me on FetLife, and we had become friends pretty much in our first communications. When my Master and I were last in the UK, we were supposed to visit him, but that horrible car accident happened, and destroyed a lot of plans about which we’d been very excited. HH was wonderful during that time, very supportive and helpful. As was everyone we know in the Brit spanko scene – you’ll never meet a better bunch of people, I tell you!

Finally, HH was heading out to our part of the world, and we planned a weekend of “get to know each other, and see what comes of things.” It happened to be the weekend of the San Francisco Fetish Ball, so we invited him out to that with us.

You’d think that the naughtiness (because it occurred, of course!) might have happened at the fetish ball – seems logical, non? But actually, we didn’t even make it that long! Friday night, we picked HH up, and he and my Master got on like a house on fire. They discovered that they both collect classic CP magazines, and the rest of the evening was a discussion about: “Do you have the original printing of Blushes Uniform Girls, Issue 29?” “Why yes! Do you have that impossible-to-find Janus Number 3?” It was like being in a room with stamp collectors or model train hobbyists, only the conversation included bits like: “Ah, yes, that’s the shoot where the girls wear the white punishment shorts with the string between their legs, and have water poured on them before they are caned!” I was in geek heaven, and I just sat there and listened to them with a big old grin on my face, wanting them to never stop conversing!

Having bonded in such a manner, I should not have been surprised the next morning, after brunch, when my Master suggested that I should go put on a school uniform. But I was: suddenly this moment was upon me, and I felt flustered and nervous – and excited!
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