Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Posts Tagged ‘websites’

I’ve been organizing the books in our apartment, as they are threatening to take over the place, and I found this gem among Papa Otter’s erotica collection.

The cover is more funny than arousing (to me, anyway) but what is lovely and even in it’s own way arousing is the innocence of the image. No worries about feminism, here, no angst about if spanking your wife is okay, no confusion about whether discipline should have sex involved (the author thinks it should, if you can’t tell by the spanker’s humongous erection!) — these are some happy ’60s swingers who explore their desires with an almost child-like innocence.

The book cheerfully merges domestic discipline with sex (and swinging, because once you find out the neighbours like spanking, too, the obvious next step is to spank and fuck the neighbour’s wife, non?) in a way that is very heartening for me, because Papa Otter and I find they mingle very well indeed, and I was very surprised when I came across the DD [Domestic Discipline] community and found out that I wasn’t supposed to want to mix those things!

My favourite example of this (and I really need to carry the URL for this site around with me, because when I tell people about it they just can’t believe me) is this fabulous article, Thanking the HOH — The “Formal Thank You” as a Non-Sexual Act. I don’t know how I found it, but once I realized what I’d come across, I had a reaction that combined all the best aspects of shooting my drink out my nose and punching the air and shouting, “Yes!”
Read the rest of this entry »

Tweet this!

A smart and fun spanko blogger named Graham (who is “a young American woman currently living in Eastern Europe”) has the cane on her mind. (And who doesn’t, really?!) In a recent post she demands:

So, be honest. Tell me what the cane does to you. No euphemisms, no down-playing the effects — and no exaggerating them, either. Or it’ll be canings for the lot of you!

Alright then! The truth, and nothing but the truth! (Although I still want my caning!)

A caning hurts. Quite a lot. It’s a white-hot slash of pure pain that shocks you upon impact … and then builds up and up until you think you may go crazy. And then, when it’s died down to the point when you are thinking that maybe sanity is an option again … the next stroke comes slashing down…!

And it’s the hottest, hottest thing in the whole wide world.
Read the rest of this entry »

Tweet this!

This is the only image I’ve seen from Justine Lai’s “Join or Die” series that specifically shows spanking per se, but a number of these sexy and thought-provoking images seem to indicate power play and/or rough sex. I’m normally go more for the erotic photos than the paintings (for obvious reasons, considering that I’m a photographer!), but colour me impressed by this series! (Yes, yes, pun intended!)

Having put some thought into it, if I was going to get down with any president, it would be Lincoln, who is a hero of mine (and who seems to have been made pretty miserable by his wife, and I’ve often felt I’d like to go back in time and marry him instead, so he could have more happiness in his all too short life!), or maybe Andrew Jackson, who seems like he was probably pretty randy and full of energy!

(Thanks to Yhumm Magazine for the link!)

Tweet this!

The endlessly delicious Miss Maggie Mayhem has an article up at carnalnation.com: Burning Up for Bondage. Before we get any further, however, let’s review Maggie’s lovely breasts, shall we…?

Okay, keeping those dual bits o’ perfection in mind, read this snippet from her article….

This is the part of the story where I try to explain a poor decision without seeming like a complete moron. What I am about to describe to you is a situation that has most people wondering how someone could do something so extraordinarily stupid. I’m going to do my best to rationalize things, but I knew better. I assumed it would end badly, and I did it anyway. I shall accept all mockery with whatever dignity and grace I can muster.

The best thing I could find at the gas station was a patch kit with rubber cement. We all remember rubber cement, don’t we? I looked back fondly upon the often-used glue of my childhood and figured that it would work out just fine. This was the very thing I used to make collages and homemade models of the solar system. Maybe it would sting a little, but how bad could it really be? Surely it couldn’t feel worse than a single-tail whip or wintergreen alcohol applied immediately after a play piercing. I would use the rubber cement; the crisis would be averted; the photos would have my pasties; and everyone would be happy. It’s not like I was going to be completely comfortable at a bondage shoot anyway.
Is anyone here familiar with a chemical burn? I’m not talking about an unpleasant tingling. I’m talking about a volatile reaction to a caustic substance that results in tissue damage. I look calm in those photos, but my mind was incoherently full of expletives. How shall I describe the sensation? It was like fire ants chewing their way through my skin. Or maybe a cheese grater doused with mace. Silly model, I thought, putting vanity before anything else.

I wasn’t a little irritated or slightly raw. The end result was pretty ugly, and I will spare you the unfortunate details. As a model, my true success for the day is that you can’t see that ugliness in the pictures. We were making erotic photos, not a PSA about the dangers of putting harsh chemicals on sensitive parts of your body. I forced myself to focus on things like glaciers or the freezer aisle at a grocery store until I finally got word that all the photographers had gotten their shots and I could get dressed. Nothing seemed to soothe me until someone showed me a preview of the content we made. It was a painful experience, to be sure, but the photos were fabulous. Even as I was still rubbing my poor sore nipples, I felt confident that it had been worth it. The pain would go away eventually, but the pictures would endure….

This is just a snippet of the excellent article, but you need to click over for more reasons than that simple one. CarnalNation pays their contributors, but it’s based on how many people read their contributed articles! So if you like Maggie (or me, since I really like Maggie) please just click over and help out!

(Oh, and for those of you who may be worried about the current state of Maggie’s nips — they looked fine when I got my hands (and, errr, mouth) on them last Wednesday) but it was quite dark in Bondage A Go Go — so since she is coming over tomorrow, I will make sure to examine them even more closely!)

Tweet this!

So, there’s this site called F*** My Life where people write in and anonymously share embarrassing/deeply unpleasant situations with the rest of the world. I wander by there occasionally, because it can be a quite entertaining view of the human condition.

I shouldn’t have been surprised today to find this:

Today, I was talking to my mom. During the conversation she randomly asked me “does he take his leg off when you guys are having sex?” Referring to the guy I’ve been seeing who has a prosthetic leg. My dad then asked “does he beat you with it too if you’ve been naughty?” FML

Being me, I immediately want to find someone with a prosthetic leg and a sense of humour, and do a shoot! Any takers…?

Tweet this!