Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Posts Tagged ‘happiness in slavery’

Yesterday as I was walking home from grocery shopping, I saw an elderly gent walking his fluffy white dog – a mutt that looked like the dubious product of a West Highland Terrier getting it on with a Briard.

However ridiculous the dog looked, it didn’t matter because it was one well-loved pooch, that was obvious. It was an elderly creature, like its master, but it was still frisking like a puppy, and the owner was interacting with it with delight and joy.

As they came up the street, they hit a cross street, and the master ordered the dog to, “Sit!” Instantly, the fluffy bundle of pure energy settled into an obedient bottom-down position (I would have said, “a neat posture,” but this is one of those dogs that looks shaggy and unkempt even as you collect him from the groomers). The owner looked both ways, and then, as no cars were in view on this lazy summer afternoon, he grinned at the animal and encouraged it to barrel across the street. It took off with glee, but when the owner thought it had gone far enough, one word turned all that furry dynamism around and he ran back to heel at his master’s leg. In another moment, with another command, the dog had shot off up the hill, with the owner following and laughing lovingly at the sheer enthusiasm of the critter.

Watching all this, I had a smile plastered across my own face. The dog and his master so obviously adored one another, and were completely focused on each other; it was a pleasure to even observe it.

This made me think of my own Master (“Of course,” you may say at this point, “What doesn’t make you think of your Master?!”) and about what I want our Master/slave relationship to be like.

I want it to be like that dog and his owner. I long to be trained to obey with such immediate response. I already focus on my Master with the same eagerness the dog showed for his master, but it needs to be honed and directed.

I think that with training, my Master and I could have that same kind of joy in each other as exemplified by that lucky beast and his adored human. We have moments, a goodly number of moments, with that kind of joy. But my mood swings can get in the way of it, and I can get caught up with thinking silly things, getting the wrong ideas about things, and until my Master can set me straight, that interferes as well.

I really think that training and discipline is the answer for those problems.

Which makes it very handy that darling kaya sent me a copy of Domestic Discipline by Jules Markham.

I’ve started reading it, and I have a lot of thoughts about it, which are best saved for their own post, but there are definitely some good and helpful ideas in this book, and I’m really grateful to kaya for sending it to me!

Last night I dreamed that my Master and I were snuggling naked on red velvet sheets. People kept interrupting us, so we moved to a field of yellow flowers and lay down in the field and spooned, still quite naked, in the sun. We lay there all day, and I remember feeling warm from the sun and from his body pressing against mine.

It was one of the most comforting dreams I’ve ever had. I woke up feeling so very happy and content.

This past weekend was full of play and loving, which no doubt had something to do with the happiness that was flooding my subconscious mind last night.

On Saturday, I was already up and breakfasted when my Master got up. He had what I refer to as “morning wood,” and I eyed the erection hungrily as he came out of the bedroom. I made some comment about how I hate for morning wood to go to waste (the fact that recently there has not been time in the mornings for the old morning blowjob, due to his new work schedule, has made me a very sad slave!) and he responded by telling me that I would get him a bowl of cereal and then give him a blowjob while he broke his fast for the day. Delighted, I ran to the kitchen.

I gave him leisurely oral worship of his cock and balls while he ate, and when he finished, I got to work in earnest, kneeling on the floor as he reclined on our black leather sofa.

After he came, he said, meditatively, “I liked that. I think I’ll have you do that more while I eat breakfast.” Which was happy news to me — yes, please, lots more blowjobs!
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My Master and I went to a party last night. We were actually supposedly co-hosts, and it was a celebration of our wedding for friends who couldn’t make it to England, but the true hosts did all the work and we just enjoyed the benefits of their generous largess, so I really think we can’t take any host-ly credit!

It was a really lovely party, but one of the best things about it were how many perverts were there. It seemed like the cream of the local scene had been skimmed off and sent to this party! Beautiful pro-Dommes (who are kinky IRL), friends from munches and the dungeon, friends from fetish parties, sex writers, photographers, some local bondage riggers, etc. As I made the rounds and chatted with people, it was so great to be able to freely discuss kinky stuff, and hear similar discussions going on around you. There was a long and satisfying round table discussion of how much money you’re willing to spend for various fetish items (devolving into a discussion of said fetishes), and I had a really great chat with Domina Selina Raven who is someone I always want to get to know better (and, having had the chat, I just want to get to know her more!) and got to meet the infamous Mistress Simone Kross (who is very nice!)

I wish I had a picture of me in my outfit – there were at least five photographers there, and none of us had a camera with us! – but a description will have to suffice: it was a tight and short cream dress, very clingy, with shiny skin-toned Wolford stockings underneath, and then finished off with a pair of white four inch sandals. Oh, and a cream lace choker. Make-up in gold and bronze, lots of eyeliner, metallic lipstick. Very summery, and I felt like a million bucks. My Master was quite pleased with the results, and I got lots of compliments and lecherous comments from my friends!
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A few months ago, a dear friend of mine interviewed me for a paper he’s working on. I had posted this back when this blog was actually over in Livejournal, but I’ve been thinking about it again, and I just talked with that friend, M., last night, and so I wanted to repost it, because I really like it and I think it shares a great deal about me….

M: I’ll start off the title of the study — it’s called Crossing the Line: The Phenomenon of Altered States of Consciousness in BDSM Play and the research is designed to explore the alerted states of consciousness of individuals involved in BDSM play. And I think I am going to go ahead and start with the first question….

Zille: Absolutely.

M: Please describe in as much detail as possible an altered state of consciousness you experienced in a BDSM scene.

Zille: (Said slowly with serious thought) I guess the choice is which one … I guess the most immediate and extreme example I can give is from a scene that I had a little over a month ago now and this was a very unusual scene for me, because my Master and I do … well (she speeds up when she says) what I love is role-play … um, like, “headmaster and schoolgirl.” And you know … (trails off) so, normally that’s what I want the most. Like, he would just like to bend me over the bed and beat me and have sex with me, and everyone would go home happy. But I really get into, um, role-playing, so he was doing that and every time he does that I kind of know it’s for me. Not that he minds doing it … But that day I did not want role-play. We started doing it, and I found my role limiting, I … just really needed to be beaten…. I will skip how we got to the beating except that I started being very, um … unlike myself. I … I was talking back, I was being naughty as opposed to obedient, I was doing everything within my power to kind of say, “beat me, please, for a long period of time.” Um, and … when he stared doing it … now I say this is completely unusual scene … so I didn’t actually go off into what they call, “subspace,” but, I was in a place where … (pause) you know normally when you’re hit it … it hurts, um, which seems, you know, obvious, but every single masochist I know, the first time they had a scene, you know in their heads they had thought about it and fantasized being beaten and it didn’t hurt. I mean it hurt, and that turned them on, but when the actual, first time happened, everyone, everyone I’ve talked to said they had the reaction of, “Oh fuck – that hurts!” and so … I mean even when you’ve been playing for years and years you know that first time that the cane, or the hand or the belt hits you there’s kind of that experience of like, “Oh, yeah that hurts, I forgot about that!” (laughs) But this time I was not getting that at all – I was craving it and needing it so much that I was just able to handle these now ever increasing amounts of pain (because as I was getting hit I was getting more sensitized) and he was trying to hold me down and I was trying to squirm away, he was just grabbing the nearest thing and um … I just got to this place where I could accept so much pain and I needed it … so much … and I know that doesn’t seem like an altered state, but for me a lot of the time there’s this whole thing of having to process the pain, and work through it and accept it. This, this time I was so … gone into my own need that … um … there was no having to deal with accepting the pain. There was just a feeling of, “Do it again! Now! Harder!” And that is, is for me, an extremely altered state.
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Last night we were going out with friends for dinner at eight PM. In the morning as my Master and I planned our day, I tentatively said to him, “Sir … if you come home at seven, we would have a little time before we had to go out….” He agreed, and I spent the whole day not trying to get my hopes up, because of course traffic or a garrulous co-worker of his was going to steal that time from us.

But … the world did not conspire to keep us from a mid-week spanking session, for once!

When he got home I was showering, as it had been a long, hot sticky day in The City. I rushed out of the tub to greet him, still covered in water droplets, wrapped in a turquoise-colored towel. Since this was a bit different from how he normally comes in, I forgot to kneel for him and went to give him a kiss. He looked severely at me, and said, “What are you forgetting,” in that dominating growl that turns my insides into butterflies made out of jelly! I was on my knees in an instant, and my pussy tingling with need. When he gave me the back of his right hand to kiss, I covered it in grateful kisses.

We went to the bedroom, and he had me give him a blowjob while he let the stresses of the day evaporate off him. I didn’t need to be told to move from sucking his cock and playing with his balls with my fingers, to licking and sucking his balls while stroking his cock.

After he had enjoyed this long enough, he had me climb up beside him on the bed, and hauled my body over his left leg, whilst his right leg clamped down on mine to hold them down. My head rested on his left arm, and his right started spanking my bottom – not too much warm up, but neither of us really wanted any!

We were both loving the intimacy of this position: I enjoyed the comfort of being pressed against the long, strong length of him as the pain increased, and he enjoyed feeling my every reaction to the spanking throughout my whole body.

He built up the pain, and then gave me a little break, brought it to crescendo again, and then let me come down … in the break, I looked up at him through my mussed and still damp hair, and he liked it so much that when he started building the pain up the next time he ordered me to meet his eye as he spanked me.

Any sub/bottom/slave will tell you how hard this is! You just want to close your eyes and focus on handling the pain as it rises up in you, you want the privacy of being in the dark of closed eyelids (head in the sand?) as such intimate things are done to you, as such intense feelings flow through you. But I held my eyes open and up to him (mostly) and he watched the pain move across my face – and grinned. No one who has played with my Master could ever doubt that he is a true sadist – and it makes him so very happy! (And that, in turn, makes eager little masochist me even happier!)

Then, he decided things needed to be taken up a notch, and told me to get a slipper. He has two pairs, one decidedly ouchier than the other, and of course, when I asked which he wanted, it was the ouchy one!

Picture courtesy of Spanked-Cutie.com

He sat on the edge of the bed, and I went over his left leg again, dangling legs caught under his right leg. He started in with the slipper like there was no tomorrow, and soon I was gasping and bucking – my right arm flailed in panic and was caught up behind my back roughly.

It was heaven – I had to hold my breath not to cry out, and so every 20 smacks or so I had to take a ragged breath, try to keep breathing after, end up yelping in pain, and going back to holding my breath for another 20. I cannot express how happy I was, how good it was as the pain rushed over me like a wave. I really never wanted it to end. That slipper also has the special skill of getting right in between my legs, so the open slaps on my bottom were spiced with the pinching pain of the slipper edge on my pussy lips – a combination that took me to masochist paradise.

In my memory it is this timeless period that could have been eons, but in actuality we were somehow still in the half-hour allotted to play-time. He was keeping an eye on the clock, and at the time he judged right, he ordered me to get on top of him. I jumped up with alacrity and slid right onto his cock – which was so hard, it made my pussy ache with the sudden deep penetration. (This is, of course, how I like it best, so all was very good!)

It wasn’t long before I was coming, and coming again … so hard that I had to take a little breather and give him another blowjob before I could climb on top of him for the final ride. I always try to hold off my orgasm at that point, so I can focus on him until I feel him coming, and then my own orgasm is worlds better because I’m coming while he comes inside me.

We then rushed to get ready, and got to dinner only three minutes late! As we walked in, the female half of the couple exclaimed, “Oh, married life is so good for you – you’re glowing!” I grinned back at her in delight, and just agreed with her.