Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Posts Tagged ‘service’

There are so many things I want to talk about today, but I don’t have enough time!

However, I just have to start things off with the “Word Of The Day,” that I just got in my inbox:

pin money, noun:
1. An allowance of money given by a husband to his wife for private and personal expenditures.

Since my evil jobby-job is now almost entirely done (I’m hoping this is the last week of it, but my soon-to-be-ex-boss might just step up to new levels of evil by making it last one week longer!) there is about to be a period in which I’m not employed. I will still have some money coming in, as the payment for the jobby-job trickles in, and I have a bit saved, but for the most part, I’ll be living off my Master for a little while.

We talked today about how I will have to ask him before I make any significant purchase, even with my own money.

So, yay! A new rule for me! This feels good and right, to me. I’d like not to have money, or own anything — just give everything to him, and then have only what he gives to me.
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My Master is sleeping in the bedroom. I couldn’t sleep very much last night, so finally at some point this morning, I just gave up and came out to do some work. After my Master is up, and I’m at a good stopping place, I’m going back for a nap!

Work is icky, and there’s lots of it. It’s providing me with lots of stress.

Sadly, discipline and sex, my main sources of stress-relief, are not accessible to me right now. My Master and I have this malingering bug, and we have headaches and feel tired and miserable all the time. I’d still try to play, but then, as we all know, I’m a silly and sex-hungry lil’ slut, so of course I would! To make matters even worse, tomorrow he’s going away for the rest of the week.

Sunday, I was sorta hoping we’d have some “morning play.” In fact, I really expected it – on the basis of something he said, or just on my own intense desire, I don’t know. But when Sunday started up, and he went right to working on the server, I was very sad. I tried just doing stuff on my computer, but all I could think was, “Maybe, he’ll come out in a minute and order me to put on an outfit for his pleasure, like the black leotard and blue gym skirt….” He never did. By lunchtime, I was a very unhappy girl. I had worked up in my mind that he was loosing his attraction to me, that he just wasn’t interested in playing anymore because the newness had worn off, etc. In my defense, this did happen in my past two relationships, so I wasn’t just being drama-rific. Well, I was being a bit drama-y, because I wanted to play, and I wasn’t getting what I wanted, so something had to be “wrong,” right?

My “plan” for the day had been: since we were both not in finest form, we’d do an early scene, then I’d ride the post-scene high into cleaning the kitchen and bathroom top-to-bottom. Since the scene didn’t seem forthcoming, I decided, somewhat sullenly, to do the cleaning. I knew once I’d done all the cleaning that I’d really not be up for playing, so I went into the cleaning like it was a death sentence.

Anyway, I was washing the dishes when my Master came over to say he was going out to buy some more computer parts. That did it – I was crying about how we were never going to play again. He was very understanding, and gave me hugs and assured me that he was not “bloody likely” to get tired of playing with me, but he let me know that, until he was better, it just wasn’t going to happen.

Then, of course, I felt very guilty – I simply didn’t know he had felt so bad! I always announce the status of my misery, but he doesn’t do that – just suffers silently (well, he does get a bit grumpy…) so I never know how he is doing, really. Just the other day, I asked him how he was doing, and he said, “Okay.” But the tone of voice he used told me otherwise. “You’re not really okay, are you, Sir?” “Well, no, not really….”

Anyway, I begged him to in future let me know more accurately what is going on with him. Having knowledge generally counters my ability to go on flights of depressing fantasy – if I know he feels like crap, I won’t feel as bad about a “dry spell” than if he just tells me he’s “Okay,” but then scenes never happen.

(Yes, I have terrible lack of self-esteem. And I’m so lucky to have a Master who is willing to work with me on it!)

Afterwards, I still felt awfully guilty – I mean, there he was feeling all craptastic, and I was having stupid issues and not being understanding. What kind of slave behavior is that?! (A bad slave – one who gets no spankings, which is how it is anyway, so even if he is not upset with me, I still feel like I’m getting a real punishment) so I did a bang-up job of cleaning. The kitchen was actually sparkling. You can eat off the floors. Then, he’d picked up some groceries, so I made us a cheese omelet and salad for dinner. While I worked, I remonstrated with myself for being such a selfish little girl. Since I can’t show him how much I care about him with the usual methods, I’m going to throw all that extra energy into service – into caring for him and making him as happy and comfortable as possible.

Yesterday, I went to the gym (have to keep trim, for that far off day when playing might start up again!) and then did a bunch of work (icky stupid work. I’m so over the current project.) and then cooked Cashew Chicken Chili, from-scratch cornbread (buttermilk, stone-ground cornmeal, the works!), and a big salad full of ripe avocado. It was a huge success with him – so at least I was able to give him a good evening, and he said he was feeling a little better!

Tonight I’m going to get a short social call with , and then go hang out with the GSG to look at costume porn:

But first — Master’s just gotten up! Tea and toast for him, then work and nap for me!

Tonight, while giving my Master a blow-job * I had this wonderful realization that I am the luckiest girl in the world.

We’ve had a tough week. I’m working flat out on The Project From Hell for the jobby-job. And we have both had every cold and flu that’s come down the pike this winter, including the one we’re recovering from now. Today we had to run errands, and I had to work, and my Master was working on the new server (which was, and still is, giving him troubles) and we’ve both felt pretty crappy all day, ranging from “mildly discomfited” to “shoot me now.”

But, we got Chinese take-away from our favorite place, and watched a movie together. And it was good. During our TV watching time, my Master enjoys when I fondle his “stuff.” I love doing it. I mean, the idea of just being able to roll those eternally attractive (and ever-so-touchable!) items around in my hand for long periods of time is just pure pleasure for me, and being allowed to do him such a personal service is a great honor: it shows how much he trusts me, how comfortable he is with me — it makes me feel useful and valued at the same time.

After the movie was over tonight, I finally felt better than I had all day. He was still in my hands, all warm and heavy, and so I just gracefully rolled between his legs (don’t you love when things just work and one is graceful without effort!) and started sucking him. (He hadn’t received the Morning Blow-job™ in several days, because we have both been feeling pretty icky in the mornings. I was missing it terribly, even while appreciating his generosity on the matter.) Anyway, I suddenly felt well enough to make up for those losses, and I could feel that this was a good time for him, too.

He reacted with pure pleasure, and let me suck him first from his relaxed state to hard and engorged in my mouth, then using all the methods I know he likes best to bring him off. “Good girl,” he murmured at the end, as I held him in my mouth, as I always do, after it’s over, prolonging the quiet post-orgasm pleasure as long as possible. (I love that time, a happy reflective time, just feeling the pleasurable sensations of my mouth and neck muscles coming to rest, of the taste of him in my mouth, of knowing that I have pleasured him and am continuing to do so, even in such a small way.)

That moment goes some way to summing up our relationship, actually. He told me from the beginning, “I have no use for an automaton **” and he meant it. He wants active submission and service from me. There are rules I must follow, but mostly, I am expected to act on my own, with his gratification in the forefront of my mind. If I am thoughtful and unselfish, I will tend to do the right things, and he will be pleased with me.

It’s funny, because when I ended things with my last ex (for one reason, that I needed to belong solely to my Master) that ex told me I was making a big mistake — that I was choosing a M/s relationship because I was scared of the world and wanted my reality to be in black-and-white, “Do this,” “Don’t do that,” “Do A unless B, in which case do C.” And now, I find myself in a relationship where I must make decisions based on shades of gray constantly. I must read my Master’s body language and guess how best to serve him from tiny cues. I must make educated guesses and hope they will be the right ones. I know he wants me for the long haul, but part of me cannot believe it, so I tend to treat my actions as if they could “break” the relationship — which is to say, I think before I go off and say or do something stupid. I know that seems so obvious, but it wasn’t something I was particularly good at, before, as any of my exes can attest to! I felt that if they loved me, they had to accept whatever I said and did that wasn’t something overtly wrong, like cheating. Now, in this amazing relationship, I have learned how to be considerate of my partner. That is part of my submission: that I put someone ahead of my own selfish self.

And, for the most part, it is so amazingly easy I can’t believe I was ever not good at it! It is so easy to think of him, to think, “What would he like to see me wearing when he gets home?” or “What little touch could I add to dinner to show him my devotion?” (the other night, it was a roasted red pepper salad just for him, since I can’t eat peppers and he loves them.) During the time he is at home, I ask him if I can do anything for him at regular intervals — not because I have been ordered to present myself for potential service on any schedule, just because, in my head, I hear a little voice saying, “It’s been a while since you’ve offered. Maybe he wants tea, or a blow-job, or help with something. Or maybe the offer will just make him smile.”

A thought just crossed my mind: that he leaves me free to enslave myself. He never ordered me to wash the dishes or clean his apartment, in those early days of seeing each other. I just started — I even asked permission! Now, those are my duties — and there are still no rules surrounding them, I just do them. The Morning Blow-job™ started the same way (although it has since been discussed and codified!) And all the time, I look for ways to do more for him.

There is the rule that I dress for his pleasure, but as noted in a previous post, he mostly lets me free to do that as I choose, secure in the knowledge that I am trying to please him as much as I can. And there is a masturbation rule, that I always hold his cane when I do (more on this in another post — this post is already far longer than I’d intended!) — and I have broken that — twice! — and been punished! And the rule that I kneel at his feet when he comes home — unless I’m in the midst of dinner prep and cannot stop, or something practical like that. But those are the only real hard-and-fast rules I can think of. The rest of the time, I am on my own, stuck using my poor little wits to try and do the right thing, at the right time, in the right way, for him.

The rewards of doing it all right are huge, no matter how small they might seem. I did the right thing with that spontaneous blow-job this evening — I read his cues, the situation right, and acted not on selfishness but on a simple desire to give him what he needed — and, after snuggling up into his arms, I looked up and caught a look of relaxation on his face, a smile of contentment. I did that! I put that smile on my Master’s face! At the end of a long and not easy day, I managed to choose a right course of thought and action, and gave him that moment of peace and happiness. What more could a slave ask for?

* As I was typing this, I wondered where the hell the term “blow-job” came from. Wikipedia says, “Some have postulated that the term is a corruption of “below-job”, allegedly an old Victorian slang term that was commonly used to describe the act. However, there is a third school of thought that believes the word “blow” in “blow-job” indicates the climax of the penis (compare to blowing of a volcano). It is further argued that the phrase “blow-job” originated in the 1940′s; at the time, it was also used by Allied pilots as a slang term for jet aircraft”

** He did, however, add, “Well, OK, that’s not true: I have plenty of uses for a good one, but would get bored once I’d finished using the thing; anyway, one doesn’t train automata, merely return them as defective if they don’t do what you want…!”

This would have been an “Educational Video Report” for Mr Defeu, except that I didn’t get to write it for him, due to being overworked by the jobby-job, and then, on Sunday, we watched the video together, from the CD of “Educational Videos” he made me over a year ago (how time flies!)

I must say, “Dr. Zubatski’s Treatment X is the best video of the bunch. The actors are hot (well, the girl, albeit very cute with a nice ass, does have scary “high hair” from the 80’s, but one soon begins to overlook it as the action commences…) and they are really “in character.”
The action progresses well, from light spanking to heavy spanking, to what I think was a martinet, to riding crop, to cane. And the pair are very comfortable with each other. I would assume they were a real-life couple, even.

I enjoyed the video so much that I didn’t make it to the end before masturbating to orgasm, last week while Mr Defeu was away.

Once he got home, I had an idea….

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I like the word of the day…

pervicacious \puhr-vih-KAY-shuhs\, adjective:
Refusing to change one’s ideas, behavior, etc.; stubborn; obstinate.

When it comes to being a perv, I am pervicacious!

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This week has been so crazy busy that today I am spending the day in bed with work and reading the wonderful erotic comic collection:  Lost Girls

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Monday I flew HOME — back to SF, that is, and back to my Master.  I’m still sick and untreated, but I didn’t care one whit — my whole focus was on getting back where I belong (and on the other side of the continent from my family!)Monday night = lots of sex.  Spandex bondage sleep sacks are gooooood.  Really very good.  Especially when those convenient zippers are un-zipped….Tuesday I spent the day cleaning the house, as I was way too unfocused to work, and the house was getting along to a disaster.  And shopping to re-supply food needs and cook a nice dinner for my Master (remind me to post the recipe for the salad I made!) and then catch up on some TV watching:  the first episode of House M.D. season three, and the Roast of William Shatner!

Wednesday I had so much to do!  Get to the gym to restart my work-out schedule and help with jet-lag.  Catch up on work.  Pop down to Dark Garden for some foundation garments for my Rubber Ball costume.  Make dinner.  These were framed by sex in the morning, and then a hot spanking scene in the evening!  I slept like a very happy log after that.

So today is about resting, resting, resting.  In the evening my Master and I are going out to celebrate Bear’s birthday.  And then … after we get back … my Master has promised that I will be getting re-acquainted with a tawse….