Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Posts Tagged ‘spanking/slippering’

I just found, via The Girl with the Broken Paddle, another great image of Rihanna!
I know, I know, Rihanna (who is, IMHO, one of the most beautiful women to ever grace this planet) is trying to look strong; a woman in control of her sexuality.

But really, when I see this, I think Justin Timberlake is about .5 seconds away from pushing her over and spanking her! And who know’s what to follow, after…?

Look at Rihanna’s perfect legs … and she always has the sexiest stockings and heels — I salute whomever is in charge of her wardrobe! Now just imagine how even sexier it would be if she was bent over, holding her ankles, waiting for his hand (or, ummm, preferable my hand, or your hand!) to strike….

Hey! A girl can dream!

(And I can’t wait to see the new video! Hopefully, it will have as many kinky themes as the last one … or more!)

Okay, I managed to avoid this meme when kaya tagged all her readers, but now Mollena has tagged me in a most unequivocal way, so here I go:

seven random things you didn’t know about me (but do now)

1. I love dinosaurs, and my favorite is Triceratops — because he was an herbivore, but could still kick T-Rex’s ass all over town.
2. I have read the Lord of the Rings trilogy at least 20 times in my life. And I HATE the movies! My favorite character is Treebeard.
3. I sleep with a stuffed wolf cub every night, named Kodah.
4. Except when my Master goes on trips very far away. Then I ask him to take Kodah with him, so I won’t worry so much. When my Master went to India, he sent back pictures of Kodah in hotel rooms, at ancient temples, contemplating Indian squirrels, etc. While Kodah is away with my Master, I may sleep with a black bear named Olallieberry, or my stuffed Triceratops, named Trinity.
5. I love being in small enclosed spaces. You’ve heard of claustrophobia — I have claustrophilia! It started when I was a kid — I have memories of favorite small enclosed spaces that are richer than most of my other memories. One was in a doctor’s office “kid’s playroom,” that had a niche you could only get into by a small round hole, and once inside, one wall was stained glass, and the colorful light made me really happy. For some reason, it was part of my sexuality — I remember being in small enclosed spaces the same way I remember fantasizing about the spanking monsters, or finding references to spanking in books or tv.
6. Also sexual from my childhood: the smell of new gym mats. A very rubbery smell. I like the smell of latex clothing just fine, but if you put me in a room with a gym mat, I’ll be lying on it and breathing in deeply through my nose (errr, that’s the polite way of saying “huffing”) in no time flat!
7. The jobs I wanted to have, in chronological order: paleontologist (circa age 5), librarian (circa age 8), writer and illustrator (circa age 12), spy and/or navy pilot (circa age 15 — yes I’d gotten into the John Le Carré section of the library, and that was around the time Top Gun came out…), interior designer (circa age 17), porn star (circa age 19), web-designer (circa age 23). I’m now back to wanting to be a writer (when I grow up — heh!), although I’m happy doing web-design and working in the porn industry, too!

So there you are. Proof of my geekiness laid out for all to see!

In return I tag:
Paul — please do this meme in the comments for this post!

I don’t know who else from my friends has already done this post, so if you are reading this, and feel like doing it, feel free to leave it in the comments for this post if you don’t have a blog, or do it on your blog (in which case, let me know so I can go read it!)

My Master and I are out of town for a business trip. Well, it’s his business trip! I’m along for the ride.

We are down in San Diego now, and started driving down on Saturday. We got as far as LA, because one of my Master’s friends was having the opening of his “Brand New Premiere Full-Service Dungeon” in LA: The Broken Door, and as we were going to just happen to be passing by, there was no way in the world we wanted to miss it.

It was an invitation-only party, which is always preferable. But I must say the “strict dress code” was not enforced at all, and we saw plenty of T-shirts and jeans, which always brings down the tone of such events. (And why would you wear jeans and a tee to a party, I always wonder. It’s a shame to waste any excuse to get dressed up!)

We didn’t know it was no “don’t bring a camera” rule, either, or we would have brought ours. We did take some pictures of me in my shiny black spanking dress and thigh-high boots afterwards (nothing like a 2AM impromptu photo shoot!) and I’ll post them soon!

The space itself is brilliant. Everywhere you turn in the huge warehouse-sized rooms you find a lavish little island to play in. My personal favourite was a beautiful pavilion with oriental carpet, low soft chairs, and the most beautiful St. Andrew’s Cross I have ever seen. Also, a naked slave was part of the decoration, and my Master and I had a nice long chat with her – about anal sex. I don’t know how we got on the topic (not that it’s hard, with me!) but she was just so delighted to discuss it in detail, and I was equally delighted to indulge her (and my Master seemed pleased to sit back and listen to two slaves discussing the joys of anal sex, throwing in a gem of Masterly wisdom now and then).

We wandered away to do a circuit of the club, and I got in line for the loo while he helped himself to wine at the open bar (and how many fetish events have those?!) The line was, unsurprisingly, long and slow, but at least there was lots of yummy stuff to look at while one waited, including two submissives lying on the ground, wearing only leather thongs, being flogged and otherwise tormented by two Tops. Then a couple of girls got in line behind me. One of them really needed to use the bathroom, and was not being either quiet or subtle about it. I generally would prefer someone simply to ask me, “Look, my bladder is seriously about to burst. Would you mind letting me jump ahead of you in line?” to, “Ahhhh! I need to peeeeeeeee! I’m gonna diiiiiiiiieeeeee! Why is this line so sloooooooow?!” repeated at loud volume, but I didn’t have the micturation urge as badly as this young lady, so I when I got to the head of the line, I gallantly offered to let her use the toilet first. She was delighted, and replied, “You’re coming in with me!” “What about me?” her friend cried, and she got invited to the piss-party as well.
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So I need to renew my driver’s license, and for reasons too boring to go into here, I need to take the written exam. I’ve needed to do this for quite some time, but have been putting it off, and off, and off. Now, next month, my current license will expire, so I have to actually go do this thing.

My Master and I have worked out a way to make studying the DMV handbook more fun – for both of us.

The set up goes like this: my Master puts me over the convertible step-stool, i.e., the Chair of Doom. Then he asks me questions from the sample tests the DMV provides. When I get an answer wrong, I get a certain number of strokes from the cane (which he sets before we start, although he seems to feel completely guiltless about changing that number whenever suits him!)

I’ve been fantasizing about this for the last few weeks. (And, to be honest, not studying overly much. That DMV handbook is written in such a way as to make your mind wander within a page, I swear!) Last Sunday we had our first study session.

My Master was in a spandex mood (and, it seems, having some ‘80s nostalgia!), and so had me in spandex short shorts and a thong leotard. I must say that I find such outfits really quite humiliating. I think most short shorts make my thighs look fat, and a thong leo is simply embarrassing to wear at the best of times. But he loves it – I mean it really turns him on! So I just try not to look in any mirrors, and let his eyes be my mirror, so I can feel as sexy as he sees me. It’s generally not easy at first, but gets easier as the scene progresses and his lust is obvious and continuing….

Once the outfit was on, he couldn’t wait to get started. I, on the other hand, was not in a great headspace. It was my first day of my “period week” in my menstrual cycle, and PMS was still in full swing. When he said it was time for the scene, I responded with alacrity, because I’ve found that if I have to beg out of a scene, I regret it for months later, every day that scenes don’t happen and I find myself thinking wistfully back to that scene that could have been. So I pretty much have to be bleeding from the eyeballs these days for me to even consider asking for a reprieve, and I certainly wasn’t going to give up a good scene opportunity just because I felt cranky and slow and tired. I even put on the thong with good grace!

But as the scene was getting started, a wave of self-pity rolled over me. My pain tolerance was at it’s lowest; why did we always have to do a scene on the first day of my period? I didn’t really want to be in pain, anyway. And other whinging, which I happily kept entirely internal.

My Master I don’t think noticed my inner turmoil – he was too busy enjoying the view of my spandex-clad bottom. He was so excited that he couldn’t keep his hands off: he suddenly changed plans, put the chair back into its chair shape, and put me over his knee for a warm-up spanking. (This did leave me a bit bemused, because he’s normally completely uninterested in a warm-up!)

He started in on the spanking, and I tried to get myself in headspace. He moved up the intensity scale pretty quickly, and my self-pity increased accordingly. Finally I burst out crying, more from the unfairness of it all than from actual pain. He lifted me off his lap, and started setting the chair up for the study session. He decided on using a tawse, first.

I got my first question wrong, and he thwacked my bottom a few times. I got the next one right, and then the next one wrong. And somewhere along the line, my self-pity and stupid headspace vanished, and the scene was just good and fun and sexy and hot.
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I spend a certain amount of time (more than I should, most likely!) over on FetLife. I often want to link to some of those Fetlife conversations over in this blog, as they can become quite fascinating (or sometimes quite amusing, when someone says something stupid) however, since one can only read the discussions if one is a member, that doesn’t entirely work.

Anyway, there’s a couple recent discussions I thought I’d share. The first is from a forum I started, called (unsurprisingly!) “Spanked Schoolgirls.” A member posted the following question:

I often wonder if people who love to be spanked/spank can be classed as BDSM folk. I’m mainly into HOH and DD and although I love roleplay and anything to do with the schoolgirl theme, does this constitute being into BDSM ? What do you think?

My response:

Basically, the answer is: “It’s entirely up to you!”

I am into BDSM, therefore, I have no trouble putting spanking under that catagory. When I first got into BDSM, I just assumed that it was….

How wrong I was! There are the spankos, the DD/HOH people, and probably others as well, who get VERY OFFENDED if you tell them they are into BDSM. And so I don’t. And they get along very happily telling themselves they are different from those nasty BDSM perverts.

The nasty BDSM perverts that I know, however, all love spanking and schoolgirl roleplay, and all have done it and many do it as a regular staple of play. They just enjoy other activities as well; such as bondage, dripping wax on people, wearing collars, and making people wear ouchie nipple clamps! (For a small seclection of examples!)

So you are only into BDSM if you say you are into BDSM. If you don’t want to be lumped in with the leather folk, you don’t have to be! You can be with the “we are only into spanking, which is just good clean fun” folks, or you can be with the DD/HOH folks — or, like me, you can try to live in all those worlds … although that means a certain number of spankos and DD people don’t really accept you.

Happily, the nasty BDSM perverts welcome pretty much every stripe of kinky person with open arms!

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