Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Posts Tagged ‘stockings/heels’

Looking around for “spanked in girdle” on the net doesn’t yield much, I discovered today (when I should have been writing!) except for this amusing video (which lacks something in production value, but at least has nice lingerie!)

I’m finding the Mad Men theme of the upcoming Shadow Lane party very exciting. I have all my outer-wear taken care of. but I am a perfectionist and so I want all my unmentionables to be of the correct vintage as well! (And hey, who knows when your skirts will be flipped up at the party, and everyone in the room will be given a good view of your underclothes?!)

This is what I wish my Papa Otter would buy for me. Please leave a comment and tell him he should get these for me — if he buys any of them, I’ll post pictures here of me wearing them!

Glamour Shape Wear Black Girdle	Harlow Vintage Peach French Knickers	Harlow Vintage Peach Bullet Bra
Glamour Shape Wear Black Corselette	Glamour Shape Wear Black Longline Bra

If you actually want to ensure me wearing these lovely items in a future photoshoot, you could always buy them for me yourself! Here they are in my wish list, which will send them directly to me!

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And the winner is…? Well, um, us!

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January ended with a bang! No, not the crack of the paddle against my bottom (thank all the gods of spanking, and um, bottoms) but just in a happy, happy weekend that makes me look forward to February even more!

Saturday was just plain good. The early part of the day was spent lazing around. I gave myself a mani/pedi as my Master did stuff on the computer, we watched an episode of Gordon Ramsay’s The f Word (thanks Mr. Stagg for the tip!) and Skins – Vol. 1, and I continued my re-reading of Maia.

After tommy-toe-toasties we went to bed and my Master read me a story from Janus Magazine while we cuddled naked, and then held me and whispered about terrible things he’s going to do to me (involving me being tied down and tormented with stinging nettles!) while sticking his fingers into my disturbingly wet pussy (at least, I’m disturbed! I shouldn’t be so turned on by nettles! I’m so attuned to his desires now that whatever he wants to do to me gets me excited, no matter how much of a bad idea it might be to a sane and reasonable person!) and then I gave him a blow-job while he probably thought more about tormenting me with nettles (whatever it was, he came very hard, one of those orgasms that just goes on and on), and then we snuggled and felt very pleased and satisfied about the whole affair.

In the evening was a local absinthe party, and we were taken by Miss Maggie Mayhem. Before the party, we took her out for Thai food – a new place we hadn’t tried before and it was a big success. We spent a long time in the restaurant talking and flirting and enjoying good food and good company.

We stopped off at home so us girls could do final wardrobe adjustment and reapply lipstick, and ended up spending too much time there as well. This was a problem because poor Maggie, due to a scheduling matter entirely out of her hands, had another date that evening, who was meeting her at the absinthe party and spiriting her away to another shindig. Well, we made her quite late to the absinthe party, and I ended up keeping her even later since we had promised each other to kiss all each other’s lipstick off, and I wasn’t letting her go until she’d lived up to her end of the bargain!

Strangely, her date didn’t seem to mind Maggie and me doing some serious tongue-wresting, breast-rubbing, thigh-humping, standing by him in the middle of the roof (decorated with little lanterns on strings, with tables and chairs and heat-lamps). It was quite cold up there on the roof (and I wasn’t wearing much: black spandex leggings with my favourite high-heeled black ankle boots and a tight black sleeveless shirt with a sheer lace back — no bra or pants, of course!) but while I was making-out with Maggie, I really didn’t notice it at all!

Sadly, a sense of social fairness forced me to let Maggie go about her evening (I hadn’t had a chance to get drunk, yet, was the problem. If I’d been drunk, I wouldn’t have given a fig what anyone else — except my Master — wanted!

With Maggie gone, my Master and I wandered around the party, looking for something else to entertain us. When we wandered back to the small stage area, we found a band playing, and so settled down to listen to Vermillion Lies.

Then there were a couple gals doing burlesque from Hubba Hubba Review so we hooted and hollered as is good form at a burlesque show (or the gals will be upset you don’t find them sexy!)

In the meantime I was knocking back “Red Dabel” absinthe from the Czech Republic. It was very tasty and went down quite smoothly! And it was an absinthe that is best with the sugar cube flamed, so every time it was made for me I got to watch the blue fire melt the red-soaked sugar cube into the cup, before it was finally doused with the cold water…. Happily, I didn’t get annoyingly drunk, or say anything stupid. I just got very snugly with my Master, and gave him long lustful kisses whenever he turned his face my way.
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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!)

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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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