Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Posts Tagged ‘submissive thoughts’

Okay, here it is the picture you’ve been waiting for … sorry it’s so grainy … the flash blew out the marks, but it wasn’t light enough in the room for a good exposure on the little camera we were using (as my Master was wanting to go sit on the sofa and watch me cook dinner, not do a complex photo shoot. I guess we are just going to have to keep lighting equiptment in our bedroom at all times!)

If you missed it, the write-up of the punishment is here.

What annoys me is how mild it looks in that image! The problem is that both the paddle and the heavy nylon cane are very heavy, thuddy instruments, and so the bruising (and pain!) is deep in the muscle. I find this frustrating, because blast it, if I’m going to suffer that much, I deserve some pretty kick-ass (errr, literally!) marks decorating my brave bottom.

But no, even though it still hurts if I plunk myself into a chair instead of easing myself gently down, no, I just have some dark yellow markings that do not do justice to the experience one little bit! Phooey!

Last night I finally got what was coming to me.

I had really not wanted another weekend to go by without my punishment (the story of how I earned my punishment here) actually being done and out of the way. It was hanging over me, and I was going a bit crazy from that. But of course last weekend I had my period (and I don’t know if my Master was being kind, or just avoiding any over-emotional ramifications) and then he was super-busy all week with work stuff, coming home late and exhausted. And you can’t just say, “Well, look, I know you’re tired and all, but I need to be punished now, so get over here and beat my bum!” Heh, well, you could say it, and if you do please tell me your results, but I’m not stupid enough to try it!

Anyway, yesterday started with a lazy weekend morning (poached eggs and toast and tea and lazing on the sofa with laptops and books) and then we had a gazillion errands to run, and got back home around 5:30. We were supposed to meet some friends at the dungeon later, and I was anxious, hoping that the punishment could be done before we went, so that if we did a scene there, it would be post-punishment and relaxed and happy.

I got permission to go do my bath/shaving, and we had run out of hot water, so it was a very thankless affair. Afterwards, I begged to lie down in bed for a bit, to warm up, and he joined me, snuggling me and warming my body with his own – which is very effective; he gives off such lovely heat! – and it was very comfy, and we could have just slipped off into a nap. But I really didn’t want a nap right then!

We have this thing where we indicate “I am thinking it’d be nice for something sexy to happen now” by body language and looks. Neither of us almost ever has to announce things with words (although I do love when he orders me gruffly into the bedroom!); it’s all a matter of pressing up against each other in certain ways, or touches becoming longer and more caress-like, or our eyes meeting and understanding being exchanged by seeing the fire in the other person’s eyes and letting a reciprocal fire flare up in your own.

Anyway, I was sending off signals as hard as I could (although a person who didn’t know us would probably not have noticed any change at all, I don’t think) and he of course noticed and laughed and told me I was a slutty girl. I asked if that sort of thing was on the menu, or if he was feeling sleepy and wanted a nap. Well, he allowed, maybe some sex could happen. At which point my frustration bubbled up in me and I said, “Oh, please, can’t we get this punishment over with?! Everything we do is overshadowed by it for me, and it’s driving me mad!”

He didn’t seem to mind me speaking up. He pulled me around to face him in our cuddle, my head resting on his chest, and my hand pushed down to take up its duty on his cock, which had somehow become a statue carved out of adamantine….

He informed me that as I had three black marks in the punishment book, my punishment would be tripartite: two sets of ten from the paddle, and because the last infraction was not too grievous, a final set from the cane. Well, I’d been feeling kind of horny up until that point, but faced with twenty from the paddle, that ended right quick!

He had me go put on white spandex punishment shorts (which not only do not provide the least amount of protection, but I think may actually make it worse!) and then stand in the middle of the room, with my hands on my knees (which I do realize was kind of him, not making me grab my ankles, but I really didn’t appreciate it in the moment!)

I took the first thwack okay, although it had enough force to rock me on my legs. Okay, I told myself, the first is just horrible because you’ve forgotten what the paddle feels like – now that’s over and you can just grit your teeth and take the next nine. Whack, the second slammed into my ass, and then, like a wall crumbling, all semblance of self-control just fell to pieces, and I started crying. By the third hit, he had his hand on me to hold me in place, and I don’t know what number it was when he gave up and ordered me to lie over the side of the bed, because I was in too much misery to care.

Unfortunately, as much better as it was to be laid over the side of the bed, for some reason that changed the angle of his attack, and now, instead of getting both cheeks thwacked with equal force, now my right cheek was getting the brunt of it, and I was right on the edge of getting out of position and trying to high-tail it out of there! But I held on, somehow, although when the first ten ended (and how was all that agony only ten whacks from the paddle, how?!) I did say, while grabbing my right cheek with my hands somewhat hysterically, “Ahhh! They’re all landing on this one!” which was about as coherent as I could get at the time, and thank the gods he understood that I was just trying to let him know what was going on, not criticizing or complaining.

Very kindly, he switched to the other side for the next ten, and really, it was much appreciated that he didn’t ask “Are you ready?” because I don’t know if I could have squeezed out a, “Yes, Sir” at all! He had kindly agreed beforehand that I could have my penis gag (which has become kind of a pacifier for me in scenes, and brings my volume down considerably, which I think the neighbors appreciate!) for the second ten, but as he was fastening the buckles at the back of my head, I can’t say it brought me any real comfort.

And, as the second set progressed, it was actually not helpful in another way, because it fits down under my chin, and thus caught all the saliva that came pouring out of my mouth as I made incoherent cries of agony, and also it comes up to right under my nose, so the mucus that started pouring down as I cried also got caught up in the big mess my face had become. There was no grace under fire, no dignity left to me. Well, except that I didn’t break position: my feet danced, my back arched up a few times, but I never left my spot. (Honestly, I find it best if you just don’t even consider it an option!)

He let me calm down for a moment before the final set from the cane. I felt much more confident about those, because by now I’m an experienced caneé, and can take my licks with dignity and self-control. Well, not that day! He went for the heavy nylon cane Read the rest of this entry »

I’ve had too much happening too fast over the holidays to get caught up, but now things have slowed down a wee bit, so I will try….

This post is called “My first punishment of the new year,” but it really starts with the last scene of the old year, because I never got to write about that before the Christmas chaos took everything over.

It was the day before my Master and I were going to my parent’s house for the holidays. I had hoped we would play, because not only would finding the time for play while we were there be improbable, there was also the fact that having kinky sex with your parents downstairs is not really an optimal situation. I did it when I lived at home, because otherwise kinky (or any other) sex wasn’t going to happen at all – but I didn’t particularly relish the concerns with getting caught, or just the fact that my parents were in the same building at the time. I much prefer having sex or any kinky play when they are on the other side of the country….

Unfortunately, the day dawned with me feeling pretty sick. I decided not to mention the matter, because if my Master knows that I am sick, he goes into Daddy-caring-for-poor-little-girl mode, which is lovely but does not lead to hot sex.

We went through the day, me finishing the packing and doing last minute things. I don’t even remember how we got into the bedroom, with a scene about to happen, but I do remember telling my sickness to go away, this was not the time for it, as I got into a pair of punishment shorts.

My Master had requested my bad girl side, but he got more than he asked for, because it seems I’d had a lot of bottled up frustration and anger inside me. I can keep it shoved down when I’m being a good girl, but when I’m allowed to be a bad girl, there doesn’t seem much point in stoically suppressing my emotions, when I could have a good tantrum.

And thus I did! Damn, but I was horrible! I think my Master was secretly a little delighted with it all, because I’m always such a good girl, but the bad girls are the ones who get spanking stories written about them! Anyway, he gave as good as he got – my ass was as weal-ed and bruised as it has ever been. I got into that headspace where I could just keep taking it and taking it, no matter how painful the cane or tawse strokes were – and I just kept talking back to him, daring him to beat me harder with every word and look. He wanted to get me to submit to him, by kissing the tawse he was beating me with, but I was feeling so naughty and wilful that at one point, when he held it out for a kiss after a dozen or so hard strokes, I actually bit it! That tawse may still have my teeth marks in it!

In the end he had to stop to avoid damaging me, and I was grimly satisfied that I hadn’t cried, “Uncle!” (Although since I literally couldn’t sit down for the rest of the night, one can barely say that I “won!”)

After that, I could finally be fucked! And, wonderfully, he took me in the ass! I honestly don’t remember if it hurt or not – I was pretty high on endorphins by that time. A cool thing was that he had me lie on my back, bum at the edge of the bed and legs bent back against me, and took me in the ass that way, which I think was the first time for that position. We had been looking at pictures from the hardcore schoolgirl shoot together, and it was not actually the pictures from the shoot, but the background image in the gallery that had really got us both going! I was so turned on that I’m sure I was making faces like the girl on that page!

All of which is to say that it was a very intense scene! But what was of most interest to us both was that I could and did take a lot of pain whilst not feeling over-well. I told him after the scene that I had been feeling poorly before-hand, and we were both quite pleased that we may not have to put off scenes just because I have a headache or a tummy ache in the future. Since those are some of the main reasons we don’t get to play as often as we’d like, this is very good news!

And I think I am going to be punished a lot this year. Read the rest of this entry »

Last night’s dreams were of the very kinky variety, which I simply do not get enough of. From my point of view, every time I close my eyes in sleep I should get a pervy porn film projected on the backs of my eyelids. My subconscious, however, seldom indulges me.

The dream started with me being some sort of camp counselor, and all the “campers” were girls who were doing “puppy play” as Alaskan sled dogs, and they were being harnessed up to pull a sled in some sort of kinky Iditarod. As this progressed, it turned out that I had been in charge of this last year, and this year they had put another counselor in charge (I don’t know why my new job was), and I was feeling most put-out about it all. I was giving the new counselor explicit instructions on how to train the “pups,” including such helpful tips as, “If they try talking like humans, put really big gags in their mouths,” and, “Beat them with a heavy paddle until they whimper like dogs.”

Heh. When I switch from masochist to sadist, I don’t do it by halves!

My Master got out of bed at this point, and I begged to be allowed to sleep in, and he kindly let me out of my morning tasks of making him breakfast and tea, and putting together a lunch in a brown paper bag. I went back to dreamland….
Read the rest of this entry »

I cannot believe I missed Abel and Haron’s post about Roman punishments for wives! How hot! (Whenever a lover has said anything in Latin to me, I’ve just melted to the floor in a puddle of lust. Dead languages are so hot, and Latin has that extra patina of sexiness because of the associations with the church, and say, the Inquisition….)

It reminds me of a fantasy I have about my Master, but it’s just part of a larger, long-running fantasy. It basically has us being reborn into the same roles over and over again throughout the ages.

It starts with us as cave-people. My Master is the Alpha male of the tribe (naturally!) and he kidnaps me from another tribe, and makes me his cave-slave. There’s much hair-grabbing and rough-handling in this fantasy, and my Master basically gets to invent spanking. Good times!

Then it jumps forward to Babylonian times. My Master is a Hammurabi-like ruler, and I am his new wife (Wikipedia says: “Marriage Law in Ancient Mesopotamia very much resembled property law. As discerned from Hammurabi’s Code, wives were bought and sold in a manner very much resembling slavery. The legal institution of marriage, its rules and ramifications, show that in the Mesopotamian world, marriage and slavery were legal cousins.”) I don’t show him the respect he deserves, perhaps I even try to escape, and it’s of course all taken out on my bottom, with rough, “you’re mine” sex to follow!

Jump to early Greece: I’m a flute-girl owned by my Master. I get in trouble at a symposium, and he, being well into his cups, chooses to discipline me in front of the whole party. (In some variations, then he offers me up to them all….)

Jump to Rome. (The Roman fantasy I’ve already shared!)

Jump to Medieval times (also already shared this Medieval fantasy!)

Then there’s the Harem fantasy. I really don’t need to go into the details: you can all guess them! (Especially Paul!)

After having read a book about Tamerlane, there’s now in the mix a fantasy about me getting stolen by the Golden Hoard and made a sex-slave to their War-Lord….

Then there’s the pirate fantasy. (My Master looks strangely like Johnny Depp for this one. I wonder why…?) The gist of this is that I’m the only woman being transported on a boat, say sometime in early Victorian era. Pirates take over, the pirate captain keeps me for himself. But I, being a girl of strong virtue [coughs] resist his crude advances. So he just forces himself upon me, with floggings and strappings to keep me compliant. And lots of anal sex. For some reason, I always think pirates really go for the anal sex!

Then, of course, we get to the Victorian/Edwardian eras. That keeps me busy for quite a while!

That’s about as modern as I get. And of course, I’m skipping huge chunks of history. I’d love to hear any suggestions to either fill in, or take the story forward….

(Also, if anyone wants to see any of the above fantasies “fleshed out” a bit more, I’d be happy to turn them into actual erotica. Just ask!)