Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Dear reader – we are now getting to a harder part of the story for me to tell.

You see, when my Master gave me permission to call him Master, I was still in a primary relationship with a guy called Bear. Bear wasn’t kinky, and was poly, so I was able to look outside that relationship to fufilll my kinky needs.

When my Master verbally enslaved me, well, both he and I thought that that relationship I had with Bear could just keep on keepin’ on. My Master was not threatened by it, and Bear was fine with my Master.

The problem, it turned out, was me. I had always been poly, ever since I discovered the notion at the end of high school (by reading the words of the immortal Robert A. Heinlein.) But the words, “Call me Master,” changed all that. Suddenly, I knew to whom I belonged. And I didn’t want to belong to anyone else.

I still loved Bear. Still do to this day. But not with the love-of-my-life passion that now consumed me for my Master. And the last thing I wanted to do was hurt poor Bear (who had done so much for me in the past, including putting my heart back together after the biggest and most awful breakup of my life) – but we all can see that that is where this story is leading. I could even see it then, I just didn’t want it to.

That fateful date was on July 30th. The rest of August was all about my Master and I becoming inseparable, and Bear and I breaking apart.

The facts, which I can now look back on from the safety of time and distance, were that Bear and I were not well-suited, despite the fact that we did truly care about each other. I started realizing that he was not the best for me at this time. It was later, after the break-up, when I saw Bear start living this happier, more vital and exciting life, that I realized that I also had been not the best for him. (And, as happy as I am for him, and as glad as I am that I did make the right choice – that realization still stings a bit, because I’d like to think that I’m the best person for everyone, that dating me is the best thing anyone could do with their lives. It’s hard to realize, “Oh, I was holding that person back from being all they could be.” But it just proves that there are really people who are “made for each other,” and Bear and I simply were not.)

By the middle of September, I had realized this. I was terrified because I knew that Bear wasn’t the one I wanted to spend my life with – but I didn’t know if my Master wanted to spend his life with me.

Bear and I started having fights. We’d actually been having them all along – at least once a month, we’d get in these huge screaming matches. Once I ran out of the house and down the street screaming and crying, away from him. Every time we’d fought, I’d decide it was time to break up. But Bear would always “talk sense” into me in the end.

Now I had another big fight with Bear, and after it, I called my Master for support. The fight with Bear had ended with reconciliatory hugs, but not the feeling that things were okay, or that they were going to be okay.

On the phone with my Master, I told him that things between Bear and me were going badly. Then, heart in my throat, I asked my Master if, if I broke up with Bear, if he would still be interested in dating me, maybe even in seeing me more seriously.

He said he would be. I had cried from the pain of fighting earlier in the evening, and now I cried tears of relief. But there were still lots of tears ahead.

In the next few days, my Master invited me into the city (I was then still living in Suburbia near Bear) to meet his brother. This was a huge breaking point for me. One of my big issues with Bear was that he wouldn’t introduce me to his family – his brother lived down the street from me and I had never been allowed to meet him. Now, here was my Master, only a couple months into being together, introducing me to his brother. That clinched it. This man wanted me all the way in his life, was willing to take a chance on me.

Taking public transport into the city, I suddenly knew what way I wanted to go. I had been so confused about what to do. But now, it was if the train rushing me into the city, to my Master, symbolized my life.

After the drinks and dinner with my Master’s brother, my Master took me back. On that ride, I told him my heart. At this point, I still thought there might be room for Bear in my life – since he was poly, I thought maybe we could just reorganize things a bit. My Master, who had more in common with me than Bear, could be my primary partner, and I could focus the energy of my submission on him, as it should be. Maybe Bear could be my secondary – someone who still shared with me snuggles and love and quality-time….

We talked about all of this as I got closer to home, fear but also the thrill of new love both ringing in my veins. On the drive to Suburbia, we passed a farm that had a “Maize Maze” (it getting on time to Halloween) and he pulled in to the parking area, and we kissed, desperately, cementing our new connection and commitment, and him giving me the strength to go home and be away from my Master … and alone with Bear.

And it was good that I got all the strength I could get from my Master just then. Because Bear was waiting for me when I got home.

The fight didn’t start right away. He wanted intimacy with me. Not sex per se, but something I couldn’t give him. I couldn’t hold him and tell him everything would be okay, I couldn’t lie with my body and my mouth. I didn’t want to start the process that night (it was already after midnight) but Bear didn’t give me any other options. When I wouldn’t give him what he wanted, he jumped up and said, “It’s over, isn’t it!”

What could I say? “Well, kinda, but hey — I’m offering you second place!” No, he left me no choice, and I had to say, “Yes, it is.”

The fight began. I won’t go into it. I had broken Bear’s heart, and when he poured all that pain onto me, I felt it was only right that I listen, that I honor him and his pain, that I show him that I still respected him. But it was long and hard and terrible to live through, and it ripped my own heart into little shreds.

It was over several hours later. I called my Master, in the wee hours of the morning, and he had been waiting for the call. He comforted me as best he could, and then, when I told him I needed to go to my parents’ house and get my head stuck back on, he supported me.

At 6AM I called my mom and told her I was coming home. I never did get to sleep until the next night.

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It was a week until I went home. Right before I left was the Folsom Street Fair – the first one I attended with my Master as his slave.I packed a huge suitcase – for a long weekend with my Master, and then to the other side of the country. That weekend was amazing. I got to go to sleep with him in his bed, and wake up the next day beside him, feeling like it was some amazing vacation from reality. (The practice of the Morning Blowjob™ was instituted then.) I dressed entirely for his pleasure at every minute. It was a time-out-of-time, a rushing high after the terrible low place I’d been. We had scenes, went out to eat, and then snuggled on the sofa to watch Jeeves and Wooster episodes or a movie, then had another scene….Right before he took me to the airport, he caned me. I was already so marked up that those cane marks didn’t add much, but he wanted and I wanted me to feel the tingle in my bottom on the plane ride. After he was done, I fell to my knees, and he pulled me into his arms. I couldn’t help myself – I sobbed, “I love you, Sir!”

I almost missed the flight. We hit traffic and were very late to the airport. We were both terribly disappointed when I managed to make the flight, the last person onto the plane.

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I went home for one month. I was shell-shocked. The good and the bad had both been too overwhelming for me to begin to process, and I didn’t even feel like I knew who I was anymore.My ex-girlfriend Tamarisk had recently gone through a terrible break-up, and she was an amazing support for me. And listened to many long phone calls about how terrible I felt about breaking Bear’s heart.But the person I talked to most was my Master. We talked every afternoon and every night. He had packed the cane I need to hold to be allowed to masturbate, and I slept with it every night, holding it to me after we hung up the phone. We shared every thought, and started really getting a chance to learn who the other person was. I fell more desperately in love with him with every phone call.

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On the plane-ride home, I wore comfy clothes for most of the flight, but before landing, changed into a kilt he had bought for me and sent to me. I did my hair and make-up – I was so excited to see him again.Our nightly phone calls had invariably discussed what was ahead of me. My first caning. I had never been caned before – someone, years earlier had said, “Oh – you don’t like ‘stingy’ pain? Well, you’d hate a caning!” – and I was scared and excited about the caning I knew was coming – the night I arrived. I was glad, too, that my Master was the first person to cane me – it was like I had managed to keep my virginity for him.I waited at the baggage claim. I didn’t look around, just looked at the luggage going by. But I felt him walk up behind me, and when he put his arms around me I almost started crying with happiness.

He took me back to my place in Suburbia for the caning. There was a glass dining room table there, that I would be bent over.

He had me lie down with him, when we got there, to take a nap after my flight. I didn’t sleep, of course, but it was healing enough just to lie in his arms.

Then, he ordered me to take off all my clothes, and put on only a pair of knee-high high-heeled leather boots.

I was shaking in those boots as I left the bathroom (where I had disrobed and done a final pre-scene primp.)

But he didn’t cane me right away. He was sitting on the sofa and he made me kneel in front of him. And he then pulled out a collar, had me kiss it, and then put it around my neck. I couldn’t breath while he was sliding the leather around my throat….

After that, I felt I could take anything. Even the terrifying unknown sensations ahead of me….

[to be continued]

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