Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Posts Tagged ‘pain’

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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Life being what it is, the minute my Master and got back to the place where we could have full-on hot scenes, life got too busy to play, or even to do blog entries! (Which is my way of apologizing for being MIA all last week….)

However, I am now sitting (uncomfortably) in the warm (stinging) glow of a post-playtime afternoon, with lots of stuff to tell you all, and at least a bit of time to do it. (If I haven’t done an hour of yoga by the time my Master returns home, well, I really don’t want to contemplate what the Evil Paddle would feel like on my bottom at this juncture – I may be a masochist, but I’m not stupid!)

Today was all about the cane. Sadly, I was not in the headspace that I’d been in all week, when my every thought (when it wasn’t about work, which was sadly all too often) was about how lovely it would be to be bent over the bed with the cane whistling down repeatedly upon my bottom….

Today, of course, I just couldn’t be eager and rarin’ to go. No. I had to be very low-energy and somewhat depressed and really more in the, “How ‘bout a nice snuggle?” sort of place. And it didn’t help that, after the post-breakfast’s fiddling-around-on-the-computers time, we had one of those stupid couple miscommunications. I sat back, realized the day was progressing more rapidly than I realized, and asked him, “So, what does our time schedule for today look like?”

He seems to have heard that as, “Can we play now, huh huh?!” when what I meant was, “Should I go have a bath and shave now because you might want to play later, or is there no time for that today?” He responded to what he heard by gesturing at something on which he was working on the computer, and said, “We’ll talk about that later.” But since what thought I had communicated was, “Shall we plan things out so that we can setting up play at an optimal time for you?” I felt really brushed off and like he couldn’t even bother to plan out the day with me, so I stomped off to my room, pouting and hurting. (I hadn’t been being disingenuous, by the way, but was trying to bring the topic up in such a way that if he needed to say, “No play today, sorry,” it was simpler and less emotionally fraught for him.)

About an hour or so later, he called out to me, “Girl, come here.” (I think he knew he’d somehow hurt my feelings, if not exactly the whys and wherefores of it, and this was sort of a dual-purpose thing where he both let me know that those hurt feelings could be put aside, because play-time was upon us, and he was at the same time saying I’d better put the hurt feelings aside, because he was ready to dominate me. (As it is hard to hold onto your sullen emotional pouting and be submissive at the same time!)

I worked hard at just letting go of the remaining pain from the miscommunication, but, as it was, I still wasn’t in a great space. And he was being very sweet and tender with me, which was probably the right thing, the best way to express that he had understood my hurt feelings and was ready to move on from them with me … but it is also something I find very confusing and hard to process. In my fantasies, CP or other ouchie things are seldom preceded by loving gentleness. It’s much more the rough and violent or cold and distant sort of thing. I do have the occasional fantasy about a “Daddy is sad he has to punish his little girl, but he has to do it for her own good” OTK spanking, although even then that tends to lead to Daddy making his girl suffer the discomfort and humiliation of anal penetration, also “for her own good” (there is something quite sexy about quiet forcefulness and gentle but relentless domination, a feeling that despite – or even more because of – understanding and compassion, your fate is inexorable.)

However, that occasional fantasy didn’t help me much at the time. If it had been something he wanted to role-play, that would have helped set it up for me … but he didn’t want to play at being other people, in other circumstances: just him and me, with me accepting pain and discipline from him.
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N.B. — I started this on Monday, but the week overwhelmed me a bit — the jobby-job needing more catching up with. But, here finally, is my first scene report since the accident!
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I don’t want to count how long it’s been since we had some proper playtime, because that would just be depressing, but the dry-spell is over, YAY!

We did actually have a mini-scene last week, but it really just illustrated how much we both were missing our usual naughtinesses, and ended up being kinda more depressing than not playing, esp. since his arm was hot and swollen and sore after….

But, Saturday, I was snuggling with him on the sofa (naked, like you do…), and suddenly there was raging erection! Amusingly, the first thing that popped out of my mouth was, “Oh! But I need to shave!” He considerately allowed that if I were to give him some hands-on (and mouth-on) attention for a bit, then I could run off to the bath and shave as quickly as possible without removing vital bits of dermis.

And so it came about!

And I found myself face down on the bed, wearing black spandex hot pants, while he rummaged in the Drawer of Doom for just the right tawse. I normally start to feel a bit of (perfectly reasonable) apprehension in those right-just-before-it-starts moments. But this time I was so ready, so “bum randy” as one of my favourite spanking stories has it, that I just lay there thinking, “I want this, I want this, oh how I want this,” and not feeling anything but eager and ready.

Being the kind and gentle Master that he is [cough] he actually started with a warm-up for once! But I was so rarin’ to go that I just was not even in a place to appreciate the mild strokes, and so I showed that in the best way I’ve found for a submissive partner to demonstrate “more please”: I lay there without making a sound. Nothing like that to ramp up your Evil Sadist – he wants to see you squirming and yelping, damn it! And, in short order, I was!

After turning things from 0 to 11 with the tawse, he went for the belt. (He has an old brown one which is too battered for wearing, but has the perfect patina to be a Dreaded Instrument of Discipline – Only I adore the belt, so it’s less Dreaded and more Oh Yes Please!) His arm didn’t seem to mind the vigorous workout he gave my bottom!

After that it was over the side of the bed for the leather, um, thing, which is shaped like a paddle, but still flexible like a tawse. But, even with that, I was still revelling in the sensations and emotional experience of being beaten. Sure, it hurt, but it was filling up an empty ache that had been growing like a black hole inside me, and that ache hurt far worse than that leather paddle-thing!

Then it was sex-time (wheee!) and he did a thing he loves which is to pull my pants aside and fuck me with them still on. I’m quite fond of it myself, as it makes me feel like I’m just being used – that he can’t even bother to undress me properly, but he’s just tugging the fabric aside and sticking himself in me … hmmm, I’m going to either have to move on from this deliberation, or go take a moment with Mr. Buzzy!

Anyway, I was quite pleasantly surprised that he was going to fuck me whilst standing, as since the accident it’s all been me on top, for the very good reason of his broken leg! But that leg really didn’t seem to bother him or get in the way on Saturday, and we enjoyed a lovely timeless period of our favourite position (me bent over the side of the bed), which we haven’t done in far too long.

Then, being him, he decided I needed a caning. I actually really love his habit of spanking me, fucking me, caning me, fucking me – rinse and repeat! It stretches out the scene for longer (and I want them all to last as long as possible!) and it combines, or at least stacks, the painful and pleasurable sensations so that I get a wonderful sensory confusion.

The caning hurt a good bit – as it generally does! – and I was dancing in place by the end of it. As he’d start each set of six, I’d wonder (philosophically, as there was nothing I could actually do about it!) if I could make it through the set. What I love about the spanking dynamic is that as a spankee, I can have those fears (which make the whole thing so much better, of course!) and as the Spanker, he can get me to take more than I thought I could, he can help me to be both that strong and that yielding. It’s pretty amazing, when you think about it!
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