Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Posts Tagged ‘River God’

The wonderful author Wilbur Smith often has references to spanking in his Egyptian Series — pretty much any time there is someone growing up in them they get threatened with a good thwacking as needed. Here are some examples:

“Get on with it, Taita. You are teasing me now. I order you to tell me this very minute or, or,” she groped for a threat to coerce me, “or I shall beat you again.”

“Answer me straight or I will whip your insolent backside, you little baggage.” I had done so before, so she relented and muttered sulkily…”

Tanus lifted the whip on high, and then brought it down in a full-armed stroke with all his weight behind it. He laid a purple welt as fat as my forefinger across Shufti’s back. So intense was the pain of it that the bandit’s entire body convulsed and the air hissed out of his lungs, so that he could not scream. Tanus lifted the lash and then meticulously laid another ridged welt exactly parallel to the first, almost but not quite touching it. This time Shufti filled his lungs and let out a hoarse bellow, like a buffalo bull caught in a pitfall. Tanus ignored his struggles and outraged roars and worked on assiduously, laying on the strokes as though he were weaving a carpet.
When at last he was done, his victims legs, buttocks and back were latticed with the fiery weals. Not one of the blows had overlaid another. The skin was intact and not a drop of blood had spilled out, but Shufti was not longer wriggling or screaming. He lay with his face in the dirt….

These are just a few from River God: A Novel of Ancient Egypt. There are lots more examples in this and the other books in his Egyptian Series.

I was wandering around Wilbur Smith’s website today, and I found the influence for some of those references:

My old man was a Victorian father and ran a tight ship. He would not hesitate to pull his belt out of the loops of his trousers and give me taste of the buckle end. That was perfectly all right with me. I usually deserved it, and a few shots across my skinny little buttocks was small price to pay for being close to him. To me he was God on earth, and I worshipped him.

For me, that paternal-focused adoration is beautiful — and hot! (Although I myself shudder at the thought of “the buckle end” of a belt – but then, I’m a wimpy American girl who didn’t grow up playing in the African bush, so perhaps more extreme measures were required for young Wilbur?)

This also again underscores a point I’ve brought up often in this blog: that it’s the parental figure/dominant who disciplines who gets the worshipful love of the girl/boy/submissive. As Wilbur says, “To me he was God on earth, and I worshipped him.” That’s how I feel about my Master, so I understand it completely. And notice that he brings up his adulation of his father in context of discipline? My point is so proved!

Amusingly, he brings up something else I recently discussed (albeit on The Punishment Book blog):

My father felt that my obsession with books was unnatural and unhealthy. I was forced to become a secret reader. I spent so much time in the outhouse long-drop latrine, where I kept a cache of my favourite books, that my father ordered my mother to administer regular and copious doses of castor oil.

More CP comes in when he was off at boarding school:

Then I received my first caning; three strokes across the backside with a light cane for the heinous crime of talking after ‘lights out’ in the dormitory. My father would never have been so unjust.

Later:

I moved on to senior school, Michaelhouse; AKA St Michael’s academy for young gentlemen. This was a manifest misnomer as there was not a single gentleman amongst us. Here it was very much the same thing all over again, except much worse. The food was awful and the beatings heavier and more frequent.

However, all you school uniform aficionados will be saddened that he wasn’t much impressed with girls in school uniforms:

After four years of durance and misery …. Paradise opened before me, for here there were girls who did not wear gym slips and walk to church in crocodile formation.

This post connects so many things for me. I am re-reading all of these books of course, because of the whole Crook and Flail thing. It also makes me think of the post I did on The Happy Valley caning scenes. But most importantly, this post from 2007, wherein I discuss the basis for our Master/slave relationship, and my growth as a submissive. Re-reading that post was really fascinating to me — in so many ways I’m disappointed that I’ve not grown more as a person since then, but I am quietly satisfied that I have continued learning how to trust and let go — how to be less immediate in needing to have things go my way, more able to accept things being out of my control — all the things that not only make a better submissive, but in general a happier, more contented person!

Yet again, Kaya’s brave-hearted openness leads the way for me. (This post in particular.) I’ve got stuff to write about, and I didn’t know how to write it. But now I do – thank you Kaya!!!

My Master and I are human – our relationship is not always perfect (although I do think we have an unusually good one. That, of course, being the reason he asked me to marry him.) I never want to write about our problems because I can’t bear to discuss his imperfections in a public forum (especially one that his friends read.) However, this is most-ways resolved by me just waiting to write about the problem until after it is fixed – any problems I perceive in him tend to be me exaggerating small meaningless things because I’m freaking out about something. Every time we have had miscommunications or disagreements, this proves to be true. He is more than willing to reach out to me, to meet me halfway or all the way. I just have to learn how to relax and accept both what he offers, but also that he cannot give me everything.

Our sex life hasn’t been great recently. Like Kaya’s Master, mine has slipped into “caring so deeply about me that he isn’t as mean and cruel as he was before.” (Yes, that’s technical terminology!) I’ve missed it. Terribly. I miss him making me be his slave, not just me being good for all the right reasons (i.e. — because I love and adore and worship him.)

To be quite objective: he is totally in the right. He has been care-taking me while I was sick. We’ve had travel with family, and house-projects, and art projects, and social obligations … and those have required us to step away from happy-sex-time and get stuff done – and it works best if I am able to function as a more independent person.

And also – it makes me feel so horrible that I’ve even had complaints in mind when I look at what the reality of our relationship changes truly entail. The fact is, we’ve changed and grown closer, more deeply in love, more truly along the path to becoming “man and wife” as we will be made next May. We’ve bonded so profoundly, and the dynamic between us is so fun, so vibrant. We are not just growing as lovers, but as friends and partners (in the sense of creating art together, or doing other projects.) When I look at him, I feel such affection that sometimes it seems my heart can’t hold it all, and I’ll burst into a million pieces. And of course I am glad that this is 100% reciprocated, that he feels exactly the same way.

But I don’t want it to get in the way of our Master/slave dynamic. So, I guess, I want to have my cake and eat it too – I want the comfort of our love as equal passions, but at the same time, I crave the inequality that doesn’t seem to allow that comfort. I long to hear again the cold edge in his voice when he disciplines me, the aloof punisher – the distance from him being so far above me, the slave on the ground.

When we first started being Master and slave, he gave me two books to read. They were tests, I think, to see if we were compatible. The first was The Course of Honour in which a lowly slave-girl and a Roman land-owner (who happens to end up as Emperor) fall in love. In it, society imposes caste differences upon them – she is first chattel, and then a freed-slave who is his subject. They are never social equals. But they love each other as equals, and even though he always holds the power of life-or-death over her, he treats her with the deepest respect and … honour.

The second book is River God: A Novel of Ancient Egypt. In this book, slave and eunuch Taita belongs to Queen Lostris. He is first the property of her father and her personal attendant, and then her own possession after he is gifted to her. He worships the ground she walks on, and she loves him as a friend and mentor. When she tries to do him the favour of setting her free, he begs her publicly to burn the emancipation, because he wouldn’t be able to spend his life serving her if he was a freed man. He spends the rest of his life as her loyal and loving slave, and she his devoted mistress.

I think I passed my Master’s tests (evidence suggests it, at least!) When I read the books, I felt pangs upon my heart-strings at the exact same places that play upon his own heart and soul. The books mean more to us than just shared reading experiences. They are links in the chain of our relationship, the chain from the collar (that is around my neck no matter whether I wear a physical collar or not) that is held tightly in his grasp.

Because of those shared referents, I have largely been able to stifle any passing concerns about whether I was “slave enough” in the kinkier-than-thou contests that happen in both real-life and online leather communities. When other slaves write about their relationships, I don’t have to compare them to my own. I have the relationships between Caenis and Vespasian, and Taita and Lostris to hold as my role models – knowing that those are the models that my Master set for us. And, for day-to-day life, it suits us both right down to the ground.

But it doesn’t fulfil all my fantasies. I almost never have romantic day-dreams while I hold the vibrator to my clit – they are tales of violence and abasement. In my own fantasies, while I make myself come, I never get to come. I am used by cruel rulers, depraved thugs, manipulative uncles or brothers, sadistic headmasters – they all use me for their own pleasure, and often take steps to ensure that I get no pleasure at all from their sexual use of me. The only fantasy figure who is remotely kind to me is Daddy, and even he has been known to plot and scheme to get me into a compromising position!

Last weekend, my Master and I had our worst-ever … um, thing. We don’t actually fight, so you can’t call it that. “Period of disharmony” comes closest, but doesn’t sound as hurtful as it is. Neither of us can stand them – it breaks our hearts when we’re in them, and we both work to get them over as soon as possible. (Actually, to be entirely honest, I tend to hold on to my pain and hurt feelings for longer. But when I do break down and release, I hope I make up for it with my eager desire to patch and repair with kisses and sweet words and even [to be quite painfully honest] a certain amount of shameless grovelling.) Anyway, it was bad, and it lasted two painfully long days, and I am so glad it’s over, and we’ve talked it all through.

We’re still in a space of uncertainty. (Errr, or at least I am – he may be feeling quite settled and resolved, and have intricate plans for my future subjugation and torment!) But I do know that we are resolved to both do our best to meet each other’s needs. In that way, we are equals. And that equality is, I think, something that is needed for a real-life relationship. Some fantasies are best left to keep in fantasy-land. I can think I want him to just take what he wants from me, without care for my needs and desires. But I want him to take from me those things I want him to take from me, and if he doesn’t, I will be upset and unsatisfied. What’s the point of a relationship that leaves you unsatisfied?

Well, it’s a moot point for us, because we will work together on it – and no, it won’t be just like fantasies, we do both need to be equals in that way. But I’ve come away from all the hurting and the thinking and then the resolution and the talking and rebuilding of trust and love even stronger than before with a feeling of … I don’t know, maybe “calm reassurance”…? Something like that. Oh, maybe it’s what they call, “trust.” I trust that he will do everything in his power to make me happy, and that kind of sets me free to let my needs go, and say, “Oh, yes, that need, it will be taken care of,” and “Oh, that fantasy will be played out in the fullness of time,” and “Oh, he’ll try that thing with me and maybe he’ll love it and want to do it again to me all the time, and maybe he won’t and that will really be okay.”

I know other “periods of disharmony” are waiting ‘round the bend in the future. But today I feel that we can deal with them, that I have learned enough about how to trust, how to really truly “let go and trust,” that things will be okay. It’s a good feeling. He keeps telling me that there are great scenes ahead of us in the years that we’re going to share with each other. Now I can finally let go of the worries and believe him.

And isn’t that part of being submissive? Letting go of control. Yes, maybe I am starting to learn how to do that not just in a scene, but in real life.