Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

I’m blogging live from the UK [grins] now, and will be for a couple weeks. I intend to finally catch you lot up with everything that’s happened in the last few whirlwind weeks! It’s going to take a lot of writing to accomplish this!

Where to start…?

Ahhh, since I’ve deprived you all terribly of posts about my own personal kinky life, I’ll start with the last scene my Master and I did before leaving on our trip….

He wanted me in my blue cotton knickers that day, and as I went to get them, I felt the thrill that always goes through me when I go to put on something he has ordered that I wear, for his pleasure, and knowing that I’m about to be taken for a swim into unknown depths of masochism and submission.

On went the blue cotton knickers, which I must admit don’t horrify me as much as the nylon ones do. These ones are actually almost sexy, even to my high standards!

It was, of course, the first day of my period. We always have the time and opportunity and desire to do a scene on the first day of my period – very frustrating! Well, it really wasn’t that much of a problem because neither of us minds sex during that time, it’s just that my pain-tolerance is always way down. Which isn’t actually a problem for him – he gets more buck for his bang, as it were, but it bothers me, because, well, I hate looking like a sissy! I like being able to be stoic and take the pain. (For as long as possible, at least, because he always takes me past the point of stoicism – to the point of tears and snot and gulping in air….)

He had me lie in the middle of the bed, on my tummy, and took a strap to my bottom. I was soon crying out and having trouble holding still, so he backed off and, sitting on the bed, pulled me over his lap for a spanking. After the strap, the spanking was just pleasure, even when my bottom got very hot and sensitive.

He then informed me that the three new canes we’d just bought were now about to get their inaugural action. I had by then gotten to a headspace where, even though I was pretty terrified about three canes being used gods-know-how-many-times up on my overly-sensitive bottom cheeks, I just said, “Yes, Sir,” and accepted my fate without worrying too much about how painful things were about to become.

The first was the willow cane. (Pictures of all canes coming, but they are back at home, so you’ll have to wait a bit!) Well, I just fell in love with that cane! Quite stingy and effective, but it has a bark that’s much worse than it’s bite, and this is the cane I’ll always want to bring to the dungeon, so it’ll sound like he’s flaying the flesh from my bones, but actually I’ll just be having a pretty good time working through the manageable pain.

Next was the hickory. That one – not so good! Bite much worse than bark! I was squealing and humping the side of the bed in pain-spasms in no time flat. For some reason, he seemed to really like that cane…!

Finally, the bamboo root cane. This is very contradictory cane. It hurts like a mofo, but it also hurts so good. I think that I could really come to love this cane, even though it will always be a challenge!

By the end of all this (while the strokes came in batches of six, I lost count of how many of those batches I got, but I can tell you the final tally was not a small number!) I was a soggy, sniffly mess. However, that seems to be his preferred way to have me for sex, which followed pretty promptly!

He gave it to me just the way I like — that is: no foreplay; hard, cervix-ramming blows from the start, and no time to turn that pain into pleasure. I laid there in submissive-masochist ecstasy, wallowing like a pig in mud in the feelings of being used and taken, all for his pleasure, not mine. Of course off in reality-land, my pleasure does count to him, even if it’s making sure that I get to feel properly used and subjugated. But please, please don’t break my lovely fantasy while I’m in that moment!

He did take a break in that moment, but it was only to pick up one of the canes (don’t even ask me which, by that point, but it wasn’t the nice willow one, I can tell you for sure!) and give me another six of the best, mid-fucking.

Well, that was intense! I had no idea it was coming, and my bottom had gotten sore to the point where I get a bit worried. I trust him totally, but sometimes I get freaked out when my bottom is really deeply bruised – it’s usually during the “sub drop,” period that this happens, but this time it was mid-scene, and as the cane came down over an area which had already been well striped, I thought, “Oh, don’t want this!”

That was, of course, where it was the best. When I was truly submitting to a caning I very much didn’t want. When he put down the cane and went back to fucking me, it was even better than it had been before – I was flying!

A few years ago, that moment could have gone so differently! I could have freaked out and started hysterically sobbing, which would make him stop and hold me and find out what was up. And once that happened, the scene had pretty much a 30% chance of resuming, and was more likely to end up with me making a scene (of the less pleasant sort) and needing to be talked down. It would have been, “a failed scene,” and I would have spent the rest of the week beating myself up over it (when I should have just relaxed and taken the beating he was giving me from the start!)

We have come so far from there. I didn’t entirely understand how to trust and submit when we first got together, and so he couldn’t really trust me, either. Now we can really start to get places – exciting, scary, profound places.

They may be scary places, but I know that I will eagerly put on the assigned knickers or punishment shorts, nonetheless, and run back to him ready to start…!

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