Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Posts Tagged ‘HH’

Okay, okay — I have acceded to your demands (and even threats – for shame, Fyre!) and gotten the next part of the adventures up for your delectation….

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But as the whacks resound from the bottom of the imp in the other room, it reminds me of the whacks my bottom received from HH. Once over his lap, his hand started raining down hard – HARD – on my bottom. I was gasping and squirming in no time.

And then … he informed me my knickers would have to come down. And darned if I don’t feel embarrassed and anxious, as if I hadn’t been making porn for years and you can’t google for pictures of my pink bits on the web! Anyway, my unexpectedly delicate sensibilities were not of concern to either my Master or HH, so down my knickers came, me blushing madly (although OTK, with your head down, it’s hard to tell if you’re embarrassed or it’s just all the blood rushing to your head!)

The spanking then proceeded, and kept up for a while. It was one of those periods in time when you need it to be over because the pain is pushing you right to the edge, but at the same time you never want it to end. I continued gasping and squirming.

But it was nothing like the squirming I’d be doing once HH started to apply his infamous hairbrush to my bottom. Yikes, that stung! I think at that point he had to grab my arm, because there was no holding still while those smacks rained down on me!

Then, HH picked me up, and told me to go over to my Master and restate to him what I’d done wrong, and that I’d learned my lesson. It was really well done, because if I was overwhelmed, I could have just apologized and things could be concluded. But I was soooo not ready for things to be over, so I put on my brat-hat and earned myself some more CP, this time in the form of the tawse. And, since I’d upped the ante with my bratting, he upped the ante from his end (that would be, onto my rear end!) by putting me in a very compromising position: knees on an ottoman, with my hands on the ground … and my bottom very much up in the air, with all my tender bits really exposed. “This is going to huuuuurt…” I thought as he picked up the tawse and started in on me. And I was right! That strip of leather wrecked havoc all over my bottom and the tops of my thighs. I was doing breathing exercises (yes, yelping is a part of breathing exercises!) and just holding on for the ride.

Again, HH gave me a chance for contrition, and the CP to be over. But I still didn’t want this wonderful time to be over – I was high on adrenalin and thus continued in my recalcitrant ways. So it was time for the cane (the man travels well-prepared for any contingency!) I was then on the sofa on my hands and knees, another “not particularly favourite” position (as in, I can’t just let the side of the furniture hold me up!) and I knew I was in for it.
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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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