Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Posts Tagged ‘personal growth’

An awkward moment at Shadow Lane this past weekend: I was talking to some people, and made some unserious comment as to how much I wasn’t looking forward to a spanking (or something similar) and the person turned, concerned, to me and said, “But you do like to be spanked?!”

As with most awkward social situations, I made a joke* and rolled my eyes and said, “Oh, I’d hate to get spanked. That would just be terrible!” and this elicited minor chuckles and thankfully everyone moved on.

But it does bring me back yet again to my confusion with people in the scene who insist they hate spankings. (Apologies if you are one of the above – I’m not dissing you, just trying to wrap my head around this matter!) Why, if you hate to be spanked, are you at an expensive, weekend-long spanking party? (Or writing a spanking blog, or any other indication of a deep interest in all things spanking.)

When I first moved from BDSMville to the spankosphere, my attitude was the usual one you’d find in a dungeon: masochism is gooooood – in fact, the people who get the most “respect” in that scene are the serious pain sluts who could basically be skinned alive and would yet orgasm repeatedly during the process.

Imagine my confusion, upon entering the spankosphere, to come across people proclaiming loudly that they would do just anything to get out of the upcoming spanking – it was a complete and total paradigm shift, and, as you can see, I’m still not fully comprehending things.

At first I thought that it was just very extended roleplay – I mean, even BDSM folks can do scenes where they pretend, “Oh, don’t hit me with that mean old riding crop, anything but that!” So maybe, I wondered, the people who say they don’t like a spanking are just staying in that game all the time. Which is fine for them, but I would wish they’d wear a button, so I’d know what game we were all playing, the best to fit into any given spanko social situation. (I’m not sure what this button would say – suggestions welcome!)

But in the years since I’ve moved here (Years? When did that happen?) I’ve found some spanko neighbours who are as unabashedly enthusiastic as any whips-n-chains-er. So whatever reality some people are residing in, we aren’t all in the same one together. This is confusing for me – and I invariably get things wrong and joke about not wanting spankings with the happy masochists, and then boast about enjoying a recent thrashing with the no-ouchie-for-me folks. I do not like this. Being socially ept is hard enough for me as it is without people looking at me like I’ve sprouted eye-stalks off my forehead every time I talk about play.

After some conversations I’ve had since this most recent moment of social confusion, I think I may be altering my original notion about the “living the fantasy” concept. (So those of you who were just reading to the end of this entry so you could post irate rejoinders, please hold on to that thought….)
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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.

Most of my blog posts recently have been ruminations/discussions about punishment and discipline. Well, this weekend, my Master put those ideas and notions into practice!

Discipline from Kink On Demand

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The discussion from FetLife (Spanking for punishment, and the dubious superiority of DD over BDSM) still continues (that is, I’m still involved in it!) A fellow responded to the original post, saying,

For those of us who like it, spanking is a wonderful pastime at whatevever [sic] level of severity we willingly participate. Viewed dispassionately it is also a rather silly activity to be hooked on!

Enjoy it in your own way and for it’s own sake, as a thing you both need and crave.In meeting that need it may well make you a better person in so far as it makes you happier and what could be wrong with that?
Other than that, I would suggest that the only form of discipline likely to be of service in the wider world is that of the self motivated variety.

She didn’t entirely agree with that response:

There is a big difference between “discipline” and “punishment” to most people…..that is why I used the word PUNISHMENT.

And personally…..I think spanking can “discipline” a person too if that is where their mind/body allows it to be used to/for but that wasn’t the purpose of this dialogue. (but happy to respond to that issue too.)

If I was a person who ran late places and it was deemed a problem I couldn’t get under control and sought help to correct…..some horrible severe x amount (or some top/dom determined level) of a wicked device (not going to name which ones I think are wicked) would be at least something to test to see if it would be a good “behaviour modification” device….maybe, maybe not.

His response:

I have just consulted the dictionary and the “big difference between discipline and punishment” is obviously as opaque to the compilers as it is to me!Not that it matters greatly as I find semantic battles are usually an exercise in futility.

What it boils down to I guess, is what are you seeking to achieve by punishment, behaviour modification, discipline, correction or any of the other words that can be found side by side in the dictionary.Could be I am missing something on that score.

So, I had to get in my own thoughts on the matter: Read the rest of this entry »

As you lot all know from recent somewhat maudlin posts of mine, my Master has been away. Well, he got home late Saturday night—which did leave me time to have Miss Maggie Mayhem over for flirting and planning world domination and Indian take-away—and after he got home we all hung out a bit, before she had to go catch the last train.

My Master was exhausted from travel, and he plunked down in front of the TV to unwind before bed. He looked through the recorded shows on our DVR, and discovered that the box had become full, so had deleted some shows. The ones it deleted were our entire saved-up Season Two of Skins.

I had said that while he was gone, I’d watch the Tess of the d’Urbervilles that was taking up space on it, but I totally forgot, having become entirely caught up in Coupling.

Now, he has at least six Top Gears on there, but he is the Master, so it’s Tess’ and my fault that the Skins were deleted. He was really angry about it, which I would get if it was episodes of Dr Who, but while I enjoy Skins, it wasn’t life-or-death to me. I went and hid in the bathroom for a little while, and overcame my feelings of resentment for being snapped at for something I considered so trivial.

Here’s where being a slave is so good for me: instead of snapping back at him when he snapped at me, I went off, licked my wounds, and came back, well, if not bouncy and effervescent, at least quietly accepting of my fault and ready to move on if he was. Happily he was, and I ended up snuggled against him as we watched … something, I don’t even remember what. And then we went to bed and there was more snuggling and everything was okay … and it was okay because I didn’t snap back at him and turn it into a fight (and how awful would that have been?! “Welcome home—now let’s have a fight about something stupid!”). I let go of my hurt feelings and accepted his. Sadly, the only way I’ve been able to accomplish this consideration and emotional intelligence is to become a slave and not have carelessness, selfishness, and stupidity as options anymore. (Well, they are an option, but they inevitably lead to the paddle, and perhaps some kneeling on rice, so they become considerably less attractive as options!)

The next day, after our usual leisurely Sunday morning, I asked if I should go have a bath and do my shaving. He said yes, and I went off to go splash and soak and generally enjoy myself while making myself all smooth. When I came out, squeaky clean and moisturised to supple perfection (I’m a wee bit fanatical about personal maintenance), he was in bed with a book. Wheeeeee! I thought, and headed right to join him, naked as a jaybird.
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